


maybe we can learn to dream while we’re awake

by Caffeinevampire



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 1990s, Alex is a saint, Bisexual Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bisexual Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Brief Luke/Alex, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Angst, Mutual Pining, Pansexual Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Pining, Slow Burn, did I say minor angst, it became angst city lol, no beta we die like men, pre-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffeinevampire/pseuds/Caffeinevampire
Summary: “Reggie never asked him to kiss his wounds better, he never asked anyone, and no-one else offered. Even if they did, he wasn’t sure he wanted them to. It had somehow become a Luke exclusive thing, and he didn’t want him to stop. He couldn’t explain it. It was a nice feeling. A warm feeling. It made him feel safe. Loved, and cared for. The opposite of how his parents always made him feel. It made his insides fizz, and his fingers tingle. Bobby had looked at him like an idiot for thinking there was magic there, but Reggie could swear there was. It healed him.”In which Reggie doesn’t fully understand affection and Luke freely offers it, intent on giving him the love he deserves.
Relationships: Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 95
Kudos: 331





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what’s up guys, gals and non binary pals, here is the start of my first fic for this fandom!! I have like a million ideas for fics b/c i am hyperfixating, but motivation is a slippery slope so whether or not I actually write them is another issue entirely^^; ANYWAY, I’m sorry if this ends up being super out of character, I tried my best!! Also pre-warning, but I write in the most chaotic way known to man and commas are my ~friends~ so, uh, good luck reading this!! It was meant to be a big long one-shot, but my motivation was dying so I split it into three ~
> 
> title from dont fall asleep by make out monday
> 
> trigger warnings for blood, implied verbal abuse and bad family relationships and a single mention of homophobia - i think that’s all the ones in this section, but i’m not 100%, i try to do as many tws as i can do so lemme know if there’s anything else you think i should add

The first time it happened, they were fifteen.

It was just a normal day of band practice. The four of them were in the studio, the late afternoon light filtering in through the open garage door, washing the room in warm yellow tones. They were rehearsing their new songs, polishing them to perfection for their next performance at the pier. If they practiced hard enough, and played well enough, Luke was convinced that tips would turn into gigs, into clubs, into being booked with a tour. It would be a long journey, but it was worth every step. The music they played, the magic they experienced together, it was made for sharing. To build a connection. To build a legacy.

Everything was going smoothly, their hearts beating in time with the bass line, the music flowing through their veins. It wove between them, knitting them together into one harmony. This was where they were made to be. Luke urged Reggie over to him with a jerk of his head, and he came, his eyes steady and constant, staring into Luke’s own. When they shared a microphone like this, inches away from each other’s mouths, elbows and knees brushing, Luke could feel the fire burning up inside of him. An electric sensation he wanted to cherish, wanted to hold close to his chest, wanted to let outside of him and watch the whole world burn.

Reggie moved backwards, retracing his steps, his eyes never leaving Luke. Which was where it went wrong. The bassist stumbled, ankle buckling as he stepped on Bobby’s guitar cable, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to catch himself. His fingertips skidded over the side of Alex’s front drum before he fell, his wrist catching the sharp edges. He landed with a dull thud, bass slapping against his chest, groaning loudly. Blood welled up on his wrist where he had sliced himself.

“Oh, that hurt.” Reggie winced, raising his wrist to examine it. “Sorry Bobby, if I damaged your cable. I’ve always been a klutz.”

“It’s okay, Reg. Easily done.” Bobby smiled, threading his cable through his hands as he removed it from the floor. “You should get someone to kiss that better though. Shame there’s no cute girls around.”

“Wait, that can happen?” Reggie asked, blinking up at him, his eyes wide. The curiosity on his face was enough to make Luke’s heart contract, his insides knotting with the desire to protect Reggie. He ignored the feeling, pushing it down – deep down – where he kept all his feelings for their bassist. He wasn’t oblivious, he’d figured out a while ago that his feelings were anything but platonic, but they also weren’t appropriate. Crushing on his best friend? Amateur move. Stupid. He couldn’t risk what they had, and Reggie was straight. So it didn’t matter. He just suppressed them instead. Every single one of them. Stuffed them in a chest, locked them up and threw away the key. Threw away the whole damn chest, for good measure, straight into the well in the middle of his heart. He had his feelings in check. But when Reggie was like this, all open curiosity and wonder on his face, Luke’s control threatened to break.

Bobby scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t your parents ever do that?”

Alex winced at the same time Reggie did, glancing towards him sympathetically. He and Luke knew the extent of Reggie’s home life; had held him close whilst he sobbed, sheltered him in their homes on the nights he couldn’t bear to be in his own, had eased him through panic attacks when things got too loud, gave him the love and affection his parents deprived him of. As far as his parents were concerned, Reggie wasn’t their child, he was a weapon. A weapon they used to further their arguments, the cause and creation of many of them, leaving Reggie constantly blaming himself. He tried his best to avoid the subject, all smiles and jokes, pretending it didn’t bother him, that his home life wasn’t something that tore him apart, but Luke and Alex knew better. They’d been entrusted that knowledge, Bobby clearly hadn’t made the cut.

Reggie pasted a smile across his face, aiming for effortless and easy, as he always did when he was hurt. Luke could see the pain lurking just below it. His lips were down turned at the corners, his smile wobbling like an acrobat across a tightrope they hadn’t anticipated. One slip, and it would all come tumbling down. You’d only be able to spot it if you knew where to look, but when it came to Reggie, Luke always knew where to look. All his tells, all his traits were catalogued in his mind, alongside every other fact he’d gathered about him. He stuffed that down the well too.

“Uh, nope, I guess they didn’t. My bad.” Reggie laughed, a self-deprecating one at his own expense. _At his own stupidity,_ Luke knew he was thinking. Something about it made Luke lose all sense. Control be damned. Impulse took the reign. The well was flooding, and he was putting down his guitar before he could stop himself, hurrying to the corner of piled up junk where he kept the First Aid kit. He grabbed it and was knelt down beside Reggie before he could question himself, the First Aid box open on the floor and what he needed balanced on his knees.

Luke gently circled his fingers around Reggie’s wrist, careful to avoid the wound, and tugged it closer to him. He ignored the way his heart stuttered as Reggie inhaled sharply, focusing instead on cleaning the wound. When the blood was gone, he covered it with a band-aid and brought Reggie’s wrist to his mouth. Swallowing, Luke pressed his lips to the skin beside it, soft, but firm, and pulled back.

“There. All better.” He whispered, words clogged in his throat. He tried to smile, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Adrenaline was making him jittery. His hands were shaking. He focused solely on packing up the First Aid kit, refusing to glance up. Doubt was invading his mind. Was that too obvious? Did he just condemn himself? In what world was that a platonic thing to do? He could feel his bandmate’s stares burning holes into his skin. He wanted to avoid looking at them, but he had to face the music eventually.

With everything packed away, Luke lifted his eyes. Reggie was staring at him, all wide-eyed and open-mouthed, red tinting his cheeks in blotchy patches. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, he just stared. Self-control wasn’t Luke’s strong point. He wanted nothing more than to press a kiss to his mouth instead. It took every ounce of control he could muster to restrain himself.

“Watch yourself, okay?” He said instead, and this time, he managed a smile. He stood up, busying himself with shoving the First Aid kit back where it belonged, and consciously avoiding Bobby and Alex’s eyes. They were still watching him.

Luke grabbed his guitar from where he had propped it, his eyes drifting back towards Reggie. He tried not to notice the way Reggie tugged on his sleeves, or the way he delicately placed two fingers to the place Luke had kissed him. A wave of hope surged in his chest, and he stomped it out, vowing not to do anything impulsive again. This was all _too much_ for him. “Our new song, from the top, yeah?” He said loudly instead, fighting to keep his voice level.

“Gotcha.” Bobby nodded, and the spell was broken. Luke could face his bandmates again. Bobby plugged his cord back into his guitar, and fiddled with the dials, ensuring nothing was broken, and everything was still in tune.

Alex cleared his throat, catching Luke’s attention. He turned to him, trying to keep himself from grimacing. The drummer met his eyes, mouthing, “What was that?’

Luke ignored the heat blooming in his cheeks. He shrugged his shoulders, aiming for casual, but he was almost certain it made him seem more guilty. If anyone was going to pick up on his feelings for Reggie, it was definitely Alex. Alex, who was the most attuned to his emotions out of all of them. Alex, who had come out to the three of them as gay the year before (though they were the only ones who knew), and prided himself on his alleged gaydar.

“How am I the gay one?” Alex smirked.

Luke scowled, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “Don’t even.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Reggie asked, having obviously regained himself, as he leaned into their space. He had one hand on the neck of his bass guitar, his other hand in his jeans pocket. Luke was very careful not to look at his wrist or his lips.

“Luke’s poor impulse control.” Alex said happily.

“Doesn’t need discussing.” Luke said firmly. He turned his attention back towards Bobby, eager to change the subject. “We ready, boys?”

And they were back to rehearsing, the kissing incident soon finding itself at the back of their minds.

//

Reggie had thought that it would end there. He thought it had been a one time thing. A joke, a throwaway action born of sympathy. Not that Luke would ever make light of him not understanding affection; he knew the extent of Reggie’s family issues, had been there for him through it all, knew just how much they tore him apart. Still, he had thought it would stop there and that he’d never have to think about it again. It didn’t.

The next time he injured himself, nothing happened. It went unremarked. There was no kissing involved. No mentions of anyone kissing anything better. The boys asked if he was okay, they ensured he was unharmed, that was it. Normal. So Reggie had convinced himself that really was the end of it. He could forget about it, and the way it had made him feel. The next few incidents passed the same. Nothing to note. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until the next time it happened.

They were putting up promotional posters around the town, and Reggie had given himself a paper cut. He’d winced loudly, complaining about how paper cuts were the absolute worst, and Luke had taken his hands in his. Reggie had been so startled he’d almost dropped the rest of the posters, staring at Luke in surprise. Luke, unperturbed, had raised his hands to his mouth, kissed his fingertips, and then moved on like nothing had happened. Reggie didn’t question it. He didn’t object. He just let it happen.

After that, it happened irregularly. It was hard to predict when it would happen. Not every time Reggie was injured, but enough to become a thing™. It didn’t seem to matter if the other boys were present; Bobby would just roll his eyes, and Alex would smirk, giving Luke a knowing look that Reggie couldn’t interpret. The severity of the injury didn’t seem to factor into it. Paper cuts seemed to qualify to be kissed better some days, but not others. Grazed knees, scraped hands, a cut to his head, bruises from walking into things and being too spatially unaware. They all qualified some days, but not others.

Reggie never asked him to kiss his wounds better, he never asked anyone, and no-one else offered. Even if they did, he wasn’t sure he wanted them to. It had somehow become a Luke exclusive thing, and he didn’t want him to stop. He couldn’t explain it. It was a nice feeling. A warm feeling. It made him feel safe. Loved, and cared for. The opposite of how his parents always made him feel. It made his insides fizz, and his fingers tingle. Bobby had looked at him like an idiot for thinking there was magic there, but Reggie could swear there was. It healed him.

It didn’t stop there. Soon, it became a normalised thing between them; another tactile way for Luke to show his affection and love. It slowly evolved until it became a constant, happening every time Reggie injured himself. He didn’t know if he should feel grateful, or concerned. He wanted to ask Luke about it, but he was afraid that would put an end to it, or make it awkward. He didn’t want it to stop. So it became an unspoken thing between them, and Reggie loved it more than he would admit. He was grateful towards Luke for always offering him what he was missing out on, appreciative of everything Luke did for him. How had he become fortunate enough to find a friend like Luke??

//

Luke was doomed. He knew he was doomed. It had been six months since he’d first kissed Reggie’s wrist, and now he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. It had become a lifeline for him. A way for him to express all his confusing feelings without actually confessing them. It was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Even so, he knew it was going to be the death of him. Every time he kissed Reggie, the look that overtook his face made Luke’s heart explode. He’d kiss him time and time again just to see that expression, to see that look of awe and wonder directed solely at him. The way Reggie’s eyes would shine, his lips slightly parted in a silent ‘oh.’ Luke couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was getting bad for his health.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair and pushing all of thoughts and feelings towards Reggie back down. It was getting harder to suppress them. He was teetering on the edge of doing something incredibly stupid and impulsive, not like he hadn’t already done that. Something even more damning. Something that even more undeniably said he was in love with his best friend.

He cringed, catching himself on the word. Luke had always been very careful not to use that word, even in his own thoughts. Admit he had a crush on Reggie? Yes, but to admit he’d been falling in love with him? Luke was doomed. There really was no going back now.

He reached for his song journal, flipping it open to the next blank page and scribbling down the words and melodies that were dancing around his head. It had always been his way of coping and processing his feelings; he turned his thoughts into lyrics, into melodies, into songs. He’d started writing love songs as a result, pretending they were about the girls at their shows and at school. The page was soon a mishmash of words, some crossed out, others bolded, a chaotic jumble of letters. It was a pretty accurate representation of what went on in his brain.

“What’chu working on? Crooked Teeth?” Luke jumped, slamming his song book shut and throwing it across the room. He hadn’t heard his door open. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. He’d been too preoccupied with his thoughts of Reggie. Alex laughed. “That was subtle, dude.”

“You scared the crap outta me.” Luke frowned, climbing off his bed to retrieve his song book from the floor. “Not cool, bro.”

“Not my fault that you were in daydream land, lover boy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, dude, but you’re not exactly subtle.” Alex smirked, looking pleased with himself. Luke didn’t dignify him with a response, instead changing the subject.

“Is everyone here yet?”

“Not yet. Bobby is stopping by Reggie’s on the way so they’ll be coming together.”

“Sweet.”

“I think your parents want you downstairs though. Something about presents.”

Luke nodded, tucking his song journal under his pillow so it was out of sight. It was his birthday and he’d called the boys over to celebrate with him. His parents were as happy as ever to be the host, always excited to see his friends. He wished that was enough for them. The band. It was his passion, what he wanted to do, and he knew his parents saw the same passion in the rest of them. It wasn’t enough for them.

They’d already taken him aside that morning, telling him that he was getting older and the next two years would pass by in a rush; he’d be out of school before he knew it, so he really should start considering college options, and working towards those goals. They didn’t want him to stop with the band altogether, just put it on the back burner. It was a hobby to them, something he did in his spare time. Just for fun. It wasn’t just a hobby to him. It was his life. It was his soul. Music flowed through his veins. They couldn’t take that away from him. He wouldn’t let them.

The discussion had almost turned into argument, but Emily had put a stop to it, claiming they could talk about it later. Luke thought there was nothing left to talk about. He wasn’t giving up the band. That was the path he was going to pursue. He was going to show them that he was right. He was going to make a name for them, prove his dreams were worth chasing. Even if it was the death of him.

As Luke and Alex walked down the stairs, they heard the front door opening and the sound of Reggie and Bobby greeting his parents. When they rounded the corner, and his eyes landed on Reggie, Luke’s stomach flip-flopped, his heart starting it’s own dance party. The bassist was dressed in his usual ripped jeans and a red plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a triangle of pale skin and collarbone. His hair was slicked back with a few strands falling down in his face and Luke’s fingers itched to brush them back. Realising he was staring, he glanced away before anyone else could notice.

“Since everyone is here now, we could start with your cake before presents?” Emily said, smiling and gesturing towards the living room. The boys followed her lead, seating themselves around the table with Luke at the head. The cake was already there – a sponge cake with white icing and a fondant guitar on the top. The lettering read ‘Happy 16th Luke’ in curly blue letters, Emily’s own handwriting. Beside it was a small pile of tightly wrapped presents that the boys added their own gifts to.

“Hey Mrs Patterson-“

“You can call me Emily, dear.”

“Emily.” Reggie correctly himself, slowly, waiting for the blow. His parents would never let him use their names and he was shouted at whenever he tried. When she smiled, he continued enthusiastically, “Can I light the candles?”

She nodded, passing him the lighter. Reggie got to his feet and moved closer to the cake, leaning over the table and into Luke’s space to light it. Luke kept his gaze directly on the table, definitely not noticing the sliver of Reggie’s stomach as he stretched, where his shirt wasn’t tucked in. Reggie lit the first candle, the second one and then cursed as he burned himself, jerking backwards. Luke was on his feet before he could think about it, habit and instinct moving him on autopilot. He was taking the lighter out of Reggie’s hands and kissing his burned fingers when his brain caught up. He stopped, realising what he’d done. Right in front of his parents. Oops. There was no going back now.

Luke turned to his presents, completely abandoning the prospect of cake, and grabbed the first one, retreating to the sofa. He was fighting to keep the panic down, fighting to keep himself from glancing back at Reggie. Or his parents. It was fine. Everything was fine. He definitely wasn’t imagining getting kicked out. He definitely wasn’t thinking about how he could be made to never see Reggie again. He definitely wasn’t picturing every single worse case scenario coming to life.

He focused all of his attention on the present, fidgeting with it, his shaking hands gliding over the shiny red paper, twirling around the gold ribbon. He found the gift tag, blinking at the words inside and unable to make sense of them. His heart was racing, knotting in his chest. His breaths were coming shallow. No-one had said anything since it had happened. It was too quiet.

Luke almost jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Alex sat down beside him, placing a pink-wrapped gift into his lap. “I think you should open mine first.” He said simply, a steady look on his face. Subtly, he leaned into Luke, pressing his weight against him, giving Luke the lifeline he needed. He drew comfort from the physical contact, replenishing his strength and gaining control over his breathing. The knot loosened. 

“My sister helped me wrap it.” Alex added. He kept his eyes on Luke, silently asking if he was okay. Alex understood, Luke knew he did; he hadn’t yet come out to his family and he was terrified to. It was hard to know how anyone would react, parents especially. They’d heard horror stories of kids coming out and having their parents send them to camps for ‘correction’ or to pray for their eternal souls. It was horrifying to even think about.

Bobby appeared at his other side, gift in hand, doing the same, offering Luke whatever he needed. His friends knew how much he craved tactile affection, how much he gained from the simplest gestures. He was so grateful.

The moment had passed. He could look at everyone again. He nodded, answering Alex’s silent question. He was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

Bobby shifted away from him, leaving some space between them, and Luke immediately felt the strength deplete from him again. He flailed at the loss of contact, lost, craving the reassurance and comfort it brought him. He realised why Bobby had moved when Reggie slotted himself in the middle of them, and Luke tried not to think about why Bobby had done that. Was he really that obvious?

Gently, behind their knees where they were out of sight, Reggie took Luke’s hand in his. Luke suppressed the urge to flinch and pull away, suppressed the urge to sink into it and want more. Reggie squeezed his hand, twice, before letting go. The knot completely unravelled, his hands no longer shaking. The world wasn’t going to end. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was having trouble catching his breath, but for reasons no longer related to his parents. His friends had done it. They’d helped him find his senses and come back to himself again. It would be okay. Even if his parents needed to talk to him about what had just happened, it would be okay, because he had the three of them. And they were family.

Feeling more grounded, Luke scooped up the first present in his lap – the pink one, from Alex. He tore the wrapping paper off, grinning at the contents. Inside was a wallet printed to look like a cassette tape and a set of colourful guitar picks. “Thanks Alex.” He said happily, unclipping one end of his silver chains from his belt loop to thread the wallet through it. Reattaching it to his jeans, he looked smug. “Now I’ll never lose it.”

“Dork.” Alex said, elbowing him.

“Mine next.” Bobby injected, leaning around Reggie to point to his gift. The wrapping paper was gone before they could count to five, and Luke was holding a blue rabbit’s foot keychain. “It’s for luck.”

Luke thanked him excitedly, hooking the clasp through a link in his jean’s chains and letting it dangle there. He always wore his chains and he intended to always wear their gifts too.

“The last one’s from me.” Reggie said softly, glancing away. Luke turned his attention back to the red one, twirling the gold ribbon around his fingers. He tugged on it, unknotting the ribbon and threading it around his wrist before opening the gift. Inside was a black leather journal and a stone pendant necklace.

“Thank you, Reggie.” Luke breathed, an unexpected emotion catching in his throat. He knew Reggie worked for any money he had and even then, rarely had any left over. Neither of the gifts looked cheap; he must have saved for them. Luke felt flustered, filled with gratitude and longing. Beaming and red-cheeked, he slipped the necklace over his head. 

“So, guess it’s time for Star Wars then.” Alex piped up. “Which one are we watching again?”

“I vote Empire Strikes Back!” Reggie said enthusiastically, sitting upright and jostling Luke in the process. “It’s the best one.”

“Guess we’re watching that one then. Unless you object, Luke?” Bobby smirked, already knowing the answer. There should have been some kind of rule or law that stated they weren’t allowed to make snide remarks on his birthday.

“Luke, will you help me get the snacks from the kitchen, please?” Emily asked. Crap. Luke had forgotten she was there. He knew exactly what conversation was coming. He nodded, mentally preparing himself, reassuring himself that it would be okay; if they’d had a problem, it would have been addressed by now. Still, dread pooled at the pit of his stomach, turning his blood cold.

Alex squeezed his hand as he got up, offering one last bout of strength. Luke could do this. He walked into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. Emily looked at him, her face kind, no hint of anger or resentment. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, the doubt leaving him.

“Luke, are you dating Reggie?” She asked the question without hesitation, her voice gentle, but getting straight to the point. Guess there was no way to soften the blow.

“Uh, I, uh, no, he’s just a friend.” Luke flustered. She was unconvinced. He bolstered on, his nerves causing him to trip over his words. “His parents, uh, they don’t really give him that kind of affection, or any kind of affection, and I don’t want him to miss out just because they’re too busy ignoring his existence. That’s not fair.”

Emily watched him patiently, nodding her head, smile on her face. She reached out to touch him, halting him in his ramble. “Just know that if you ever do, we support you. We’re always going to love you, Luke.” She kissed the side of his face to reiterate that fact. The cold feeling was gone. It was replaced with the warmth of acceptance and love.

“It’s obvious how much you care about him. Anyone can see that. And it’s obvious how much he cares about you too.” She continued.

“Mom!” Luke protested, overcome with embarrassment. He didn’t need reminding how obvious it was that he was completely smitten for Reggie. “Can we just go back now, please?”

She nodded, handing him a bowl of popcorn, a packet of twizzlers and a box of Oreos before gathering up the remaining snacks in her arms. “Just remember we love you, Luke.”

They enjoyed the rest of the night in peace watching The Empire Strikes Back, Luke overly conscious every time Reggie leaned into him to whisper comments about a scene into his ear. It sent shivers through Luke’s spine and he blamed it on the cold, even though he’d always been a human radiator. When the film ended, Reggie commented on how he wished he could be more like Han Solo and that Leia was his dream girl. Luke thought about how Reggie was so much more genuine than Han, and how that, to him, was so much more important and impressive than being suave.

They cycled back to A New Hope and passed out on the sofa, all snuggled into one another, warm and content.

//

The sound of rain thundered through the open window and reverberated across the room. Reggie didn’t care. He needed to leave. His nerves were fried, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He’d already thrown up twice. He was on the edge of a full blown panic attack. His parents had been arguing for hours, shouting at the top of their lungs, and throwing things at each other. Reggie could hear the crashes and thuds, and the sounds echoed inside his head. He couldn’t stop hearing it. He’d tried drowning them out with his Walkman, had tried listening to the Rock mixtape Luke had made him, but, beneath the bass line, beneath the rhythmic beat of the drums, beneath the lead singer’s harsh vocals, he could hear his parents screaming. It was too much.

He turned his Walkman off, hiding it between his mattress for safe keeping. It was a habit he’d cultivated after his father had thrown his gameboy in anger – the gameboy he’d saved for months for – and it had broken. Important things were to be hidden, to be protected. Everything else, well, that was expendable. It had to be.

Reggie grabbed his backpack, throwing in a change of clothes and his homework for school tomorrow. There was nothing else he needed, and he didn’t intend to return tonight. He turned his bedroom light off, shrugged his leather jacket over his shoulders and threw his backpack out the window. It landed in the grass just beyond his window, already taking the brunt of the rain. Reggie followed suit, sliding over the window ledge, spinning around to face the wall, and finding purchase on the trellis below his feet. His arms burned as he lowered himself, but he was used to the strain; he’d done this enough times that he moved on autopilot instead of effort. He climbed down.

Jumping the last few inches, Reggie scooped up his backpack, and took off running. He ran in the opposite direction to the beach, his usual comfort spot there still too close to home to manage. He ran. He ran until his feet stung, burning the fear and adrenaline out of his system. His breaths were strained and uneven, but he kept running. He was following his feet, escaping as far away from home as he could imagine. The rain beat down against his skin, harsh and cold, but he barely felt it. It could drench him to the bone, drown him, for all he’d care.

He eventually slowed, dizzy from the exertion, from nausea and the tiredness settling over him. It was late. He didn’t know exactly how late, but definitely past midnight. The streets were too quiet, and exhaustion was settling over his bones. He needed to sleep.

Reggie glanced around, wondering where his feet had taken him. He recognised the street, knew it was only one street away from Luke’s house. He could go there, but he didn’t want to burden his friend. Then again, what other option did he have?? He couldn’t go to the garage they’d made their studio; Alex still had the key (he definitely had to speak to Luke about getting more copies cut.) He couldn’t go to Alex’s house; he lived another twenty minutes away, and he didn’t want to bother him either. He couldn’t go to Bobby’s house; the rhythm guitarist didn’t know about his parents, and he was too damn tired to talk about it. He couldn’t go home. So Luke’s house it was.

Trying to smother the guilty feeling gnawing in his stomach, Reggie rounded the corner and made his way towards the familiar house at the end. Actually going there was as far as his plan had gotten. He hadn’t yet considered how he intended to get in. He checked the digital watch around his wrist. 2am. Yup, definitely too late to knock. He was already feeling guilty about the prospect of waking and disturbing Luke, no need to add waking Emily and Mitch to that mix. Sighing, he crossed the grass to the side gate, scaling it quickly and jumping down the other side. If he could somehow get Luke’s attention from outside his bedroom window, he could let him in.

Reggie scanned the back garden, searching for anything that could help him. His eyes landed on the pebbled pathway, deciding they’d be perfect. Squatting down beside them, he selected some of the smaller ones, drying them on the inside of his jacket for a firmer grip. He moved towards Luke’s window, taking aim and tossing one of the pebbles at it.

Reggie braced himself, waiting for something to go terribly wrong. It didn’t. The pebble tapped lightly against the glass and fell back to the grass below. Reggie let out a relieved sigh. He’d had a temporary impending feeling of doom, like the glass was going to shatter, or he’d pierce a hole through it. He dismissed the thought, reassured this time, and tried again.

A handful of pebbles disappeared before there was a sign of life. A light flickered on, illuminating the shapes of Luke’s bedroom through his curtains. He aimed another pebble at the window. A shadow appeared behind the curtains as it hit, parting to reveal Luke’s silhouette. The window opened, his head poking out of it. Luke was clearly half asleep, his tousled hair flicking upwards in every direction; more than usual, if that were even possible. His eyes were half shut.

Luke squinted at the garden, and Reggie could tell the second he registered his friend’s presence. The guitarist immediately sobered up, all traces of sleep gone. “Reggie?” He asked, concern curling the edges of his voice. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Reggie nodded, his chest tight. He was beginning to regret coming here, guilt pooling in his lungs, stealing his breath. Maybe his parents were right; maybe he was just a burden. He flinched at the thought, tired of feeling ashamed just for existing. When did it end?

The back door opened, interrupting Reggie’s self destructive line of thought, and Luke was there, holding it open, his expression sorrowful. Reggie knew that Luke already knew his reasons for coming. It wasn’t hard to work out. Reggie closed his eye and inhaled before heading towards his best friend. _It’s okay to ask for help._ He reminded himself.

Once inside, Luke locked the door and grabbed his hand, gently pulling him up the stairs. Even when they were in his room, Luke didn’t let go. Reggie focused on the warmth, relished in the contact, the steady constant that was Luke.

“You’re soaking.” Luke observed.

‘It doesn’t matter.” Reggie shook his head. “I needed to get out of there.” He pulled his hand away, dropping his bag to the floor and opening it. His spare clothes were as drenched as the rest of him was. He cursed under his breath. He was freezing, he was wet, he was tired. He just wanted to change into clean, dry clothes and go to sleep. Why did the world hate him? Couldn’t something just go right, for once?

Luke reached forward, taking Reggie’s clothes and placing them on his radiator. Satisfied, he turned to his drawers and pulled two things out of the top one. “You can borrow these.” He said, tossing them in Reggie’s direction. A pair of black joggers, and one of Luke’s sleeveless band shirts. Reggie smiled up at Luke, who briefly smiled back before turning away. “There’s towels in the bathroom too, so you can dry yourself off.”

“Thank you.” Reggie said softly, meaning the words with every ounce of his being. He climbed to his feet and wandered into the hallway, squinting in the dark to find the bathroom door. He flicked the light on, watching the cramped space fill with soft orange light, and locked the door behind him. Reggie wasted no time removing his clothes, stripping down to his underwear as he peeled the soaked fabric from his damp skin. There were towels on the shelves above his toilet, and he grabbed one, wrapping it around himself. They were cotton – much softer and warmer than anything he had at home. It was a simple comfort, but an effective one.

Reggie dried himself off quickly and slipped into Luke’s sweatpants, pulling the drawstrings tight and knotting them with a bow. He pulled Luke’s shirt over his head, trying not to feel insecure about the way it hung off him. Luke was wider and more muscular than him, toned in a noticeable way. Sometimes he couldn’t not notice. It was hard not to. The way Luke always hacked off his sleeves framed his arms in a nice picture. He was always leaning against things, or standing in ways that showcased his figure, highlighting his muscles and curves. It was no wonder girls swooned at the sight of him.

Reggie couldn’t compare to that. He was all straight lines and blunt edges. Scrawny, and unflattering. He dressed primarily for comfort, occasionally hiding his lack of curves in oversized plaid shirts and his leather jacket. It usually didn’t bother him, but some days, days like today, it was all he could think about.

Running his fingers through his damp hair, he took a deep breath, banishing the thoughts from his brain. He should just be grateful that Luke gave him something dry and clean to wear. Even if they did smell like Luke. It was comforting. Like a constant hug from him. The thought made his heart rate speed up. That was weird. Maybe it was just the shock catching up with him. Tonight had been a lot.

Retrieving his wet clothes from the floor, Reggie spread them out over the edge of the bath, hoping they’d dry there. He turned the light off, closed the door behind him and stumbled back to Luke’s room.

“I put my wet clothes over the bath, I hope that’s okay.” Reggie said as he re-entered Luke’s bedroom. Luke glanced upwards, mouth open to respond. No words came out. He stopped, freezing where he was, staring at Reggie. The latter squirmed under the scrutiny, self-conscious. The shirt definitely wasn’t working for him then. He was all too aware how weird it looked, how unflattering. Luke had evidently noticed too. He clasped his fingers together, unclasped them, fiddling with his fingers. It was a habit born of nerves, one he’d never been able to break. Luke’s gaze drifted down to Reggie’s hands, latching onto the movement, and he snapped out of it.

“Uhh, yeah.” Luke swallowed, his eyes skirting over Reggie before looking away. Reggie felt warm and itchy all over. “If they’re not dry by morning, I’ll wash and dry them with the rest of my stuff.”

“Thanks Luke. I, uh, I’m sorry for waking you up and putting this on you.”

“Don’t apologise.” Luke said softly, meeting Reggie’s eyes. He jerked his head, just like he’d do when they were performing, silently asking Reggie to come to him. Reggie obliged, moving hesitantly to sit beside Luke on his bed. There was an inch or two of space between them (Reggie had been careful to leave the space), but he could feel Luke’s heat radiating from where he sat. He always had been a human radiator.

Reggie wanted to lean into the warmth, to let it envelope him and seep into his skin. He wanted Luke’s fire to burn inside him too, to set his heart on fire and engulf him in flames. It would be weird though. He doubted Luke would think it was weird, but Luke handed out affection like it was never-ending, always tactile, expressing his love for people through his touches. He was always in their personal space, leaning into their touch, offering parts of himself to take freely, trusting them with it. Reggie didn’t have that luxury. His affection was capped; his parents had drained him of everything, and there was little of himself left to give. He didn’t understand the unspoken boundaries and rules of touch, couldn’t comprehend the subtleties of it. He understood the basics – what was generally considered platonic, familial and romantic – but even then, the lines were blurred. Was it even okay for him to crave affection?? To crave Luke’s affection?? Or was that crossing into territories out of his depth?? It didn’t make sense to him. So he retained his distance, reaching for Luke’s blanket and drawing that around his shoulders instead.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luke asked, leaning back against his headboard and drawing his knees into himself.

“It’s just the usual.” Reggie muttered. “I was asleep. They woke me up fighting. I don’t know what about; I couldn’t hear the words. The noise was just too much, and the tone behind it. The hatred in their voices. I tried to drown it out. I, uh, I listened to that mixtape you gave me, but it wasn’t working. I could still hear them. They started throwing things. It was making me really anxious, every loud sound set me on edge. I was ready for them to come in and start throwing things at me too.” They had done that before. He swallowed. It was getting harder to maintain his composure, a lump building in his throat and tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“It was just too much. I had to leave. I followed my feet. They took me here.’

‘I’m sorry.” Luke whispered. He shuffled closer to Reggie, silently asking him if it was okay. Reggie nodded and Luke pressed himself up against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, knee to knee. He took the hand closest to him, intertwining their fingers, rubbing circles on the back of Reggie’s hand with his thumb. His heat was spilling out of him at every point of contact and Reggie was burning up. 

“I’m really sorry, Reggie.” Luke repeated, stretching out his free hand to brush Reggie’s hair from his forehead. He leaned into his space, and pressed a kiss there. That was new. He wasn’t injured. “It will be better.”

When Luke said the words, his voice low and raspy, they sounded true. Like things could be better, would be better. Like he was taking the world into his hands and reshaping it into a new reality where things were better, just for Reggie. A cocoon of comfort and reassurance wrapped itself around Reggie, bundling him tight, keeping him warm against the storm of life. Luke smiled at him, and the warmth spread. His heart sparked to life, igniting an inferno inside of him.

“Thanks Luke.” Reggie said softly, the lines blurred as he leaned into him. Luke accepted him graciously, wrapping his arms around him and settling one hand in his hair. Encouraged, Reggie snuggled into him, head on his chest, one arm curled in front of him, hand over Luke’s heart, the other arm snaked around him. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Luke’s unsteady breathing, and savouring the feeling of Luke’s fingers running through his hair. Overwhelmed by the feeling of safety, Reggie fell asleep. Luke soon followed suit.

When Emily woke them in the morning, he was still wrapped in Luke’s arms, their limbs entangled, his drool on Luke’s shirt. He thought she’d say something, question the clear lack of boundaries. She didn’t. She said nothing, except to ask what they’d both like for breakfast, and if Reggie was staying again that night. Reggie didn’t miss the pointed look she gave Luke, or the way coloured bloomed on his cheeks.

//

Summer days were the best for busking at the pier. The bright summer sunshine caused people to swarm near the beaches, improving their moods and increasing their willingness to try new things. To listen to new music. To appreciate the arts. When they played there, they always managed to gather a small audience, and Alex always filled a jar of tips.

They’d brought their smaller amps for portability, setting up in their usual spot. The amps and the guitars came first, then three of them went back for Alex’s drums; they were much less portable, but essential to their sound. From there, they jumped into performing their songs, surrendering themselves to the music. It flowed from their souls, touching people as they passed, entrancing them.

Their newest song, Now or Never, had gone down a treat, gaining whoops and applause from their growing audience. That was reassuring; they’d never played it outside of rehearsal before. It was exactly the reaction that Luke lived for. Sharing the songs he’d written, sharing the vibe they created, their sound, it was what he was made for. He thrived when he was connected to people, thrived when he could make a difference to their day. It was magic.

They jumped straight into their next song, Long Weekend, bouncing with the thrill of it. Luke swung his guitar around his neck between the chorus and the second verse, taking the opportunity to show off, heart racing with adrenaline. Girls cheered, chanting his name and he smirked, exuding confidence. He knew he was quickly being labelled the heartthrob of the band. It only spurred him on. But he shared a difference in opinion.

His gaze drifted towards their bassist, locking eyes with Reggie as he grinned, directing his tireless energy in Luke’s direction. He was captivating. The way he embodied their music; always bouncing around, his hair falling in his face as he nodded his head. He was so alive, bursting with energy. Luke was addicted to it.

Reggie hopped towards him, Luke’s heart skipping a beat with each step closer. He stopped short in Luke’s personal space, leaning towards the microphone between them. He could feel his breath on his face, the mere inches between them suddenly too far. Luke tilted his head as he sang, directed more towards Reggie than his microphone, his gaze flickering down to his mouth. He watched the way he shaped the lyrics, wanting to know the way they’d feel against his own lips. A magnetic pull drew him to Reggie and he wanted nothing more than to surrender himself to it. He was vaguely aware that the others were around somewhere, but his lovesick haze saw only him.

Forcing himself to glance back upwards, he met Reggie’s eyes again. The latter smiled, big and wide, and Luke’s insides melted. He’d burn down the world, reduce it all to ashes, just to see that smile. He’d never forgive Reggie’s parents for making it so hard to find. Luke was filled with so much want; want to protect Reggie, want to shower him in the love and affection he deserved, want to just surrender to his own damn emotions and kiss Reggie in the least platonic way imaginable.

Reggie turned, intending to return to his place by his microphone, but instead, walked straight into Bobby. It happened in slow motion; the two collided, Bobby’s guitar neck smacking Reggie square in the nose, the two falling backwards from the force. Luke scrambled to help them, kneeling down beside Bobby, who was the closest.

“Shit, are you okay?”

Bobby winced at his grazed palms, checking himself for further damage. “I’m fine. I didn’t realise Reggie was gonna turn around then. Sorry, man.”

“It’s cool.” Reggie said, one hand clutched over his nose. He was grimacing in pain. “I think I hit my nose off something, it’s throbbing.” He removed his hand slowly, groaning. Blood seeped from his nose, already staining his lips, chin and hand red. It dripped from his chin onto his white t-shirt, spreading across the material.

“Reggie, pinch your nose again.” Luke said quickly, rushing to his feet and offering him his hand. “I’ll take him to get him cleaned up. Can you guys watch the stuff?” He glanced between Bobby and Alex, who had moved from his drums to check on his friends. They both nodded.

“Come on.” Luke hauled Reggie to his feet, taking the hand that wasn’t bloody. He intended to let go once he was standing. He didn’t. He intertwined their fingers instead, using their joined hands to lead him down the seafront to the public bathrooms. Luke only dropped his hand when they reached them, and only to pay the fare to use them.

When they were inside, Luke gestured for Reggie to move his hand and hang his head over the sink. The blood flowed from his nose at a fast pace, faster for having been blocked off, before it started to slow to a steady trickle. Luke entered one of the stalls, grabbing a roll of tissue and tossed it to Reggie.

“Sit on the counter, pinch your nose and make sure you keep your head forward; it will go down the back of your throat otherwise.” He instructed. As a kid, he’d suffered from nosebleeds, always getting them when the weather was too hot, or the air pressure was too high, and he’d grown accustomed to dealing with them. Reggie obeyed, swinging his legs the moment they were off the ground. Luke laughed awkwardly. “It’s a good thing you have your plaid shirt tied around your waist, you’re likely gonna have to wear that so we can soak the blood out of your t-shirt. It’ll stain otherwise.”

“Right. Okay.” Reggie wasted no time in pulling his t-shirt over his head and offered it to Luke. Luke stared at him, his brain short-circuiting, his mouth falling open. He hadn’t meant _right now._ His eyes skirted over Reggie’s bare chest, over his bare arms, admiring his subtle muscle and toned physique. Flushing, he realised what he was doing. He didn’t even know how to justify himself. Saying nothing, he took Reggie’s t-shirt, avoiding his eyes and turning to the sink.

Busying himself, Luke plugged the sink and ran the cold water tap, holding the bloodied area just under it. He scrubbed at it with his fingers, wishing he had some soap, but improvising with what he had. It proved a good distraction from Reggie. Reggie and his bloody nose and his bare chest. The stain was slowly becoming less potent, more of a faded pink than the dark red it had originally been.

“How’s your nose?” Luke asked, finally breaking the silence. “Has it stopped bleeding?” He hazarded a glance at Reggie, focusing intently on his face. Reggie removed his hand and the tissues from his face, blinking at Luke. It looked like it had. Luke turned off the tap, leaving the t-shirt to soak and moving closer to Reggie. The latter stopped kicking his legs as he approached, and Luke leaned into him to look at his face, pressed up against his knees.

The bleeding had definitely stopped. “It’s stopped. Here, let me clean your face.” Luke retrieved some clean tissues, dampening them under the hot water tap. He placed his hand under Reggie’s chin, tilting his face as he dabbed the blood, carefully, but with enough force to remove it. Reggie stared at him wide-eyed, his hands knotted together in his lap, fingers twisting around each other. Luke knew he only did that when he was nervous. He intentionally didn’t think about what could be making him nervous. Maybe he’d made his feelings obvious before when he’d stared and Reggie was now uncomfortable with their proximity. But he didn’t think about. There were more important matters at hand.

“There.” Luke announced when the blood was gone. He leaned forward, right into Reggie’s personal space and, hand still on his face, kissed his nose. When he pulled away, taking his hand with him, Reggie crinkled his nose. Luke’s insides turned to goo, his senses running away with him. That was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen. Impulses taking over, he leaned forward and did it again.

Luke flustered, his brain catching up with his actions, cursing his impulses and the trouble they were getting him in. Reggie’s face was blotchy pink and red, his nose scrunching again. He could forgive his impulses for that sight alone.

“It was a lot of blood.” Luke muttered, trying to redeem himself. “It needed twice as much power.”

Reggie nodded like that made sense, as though what he’d just done was the most normal thing in the world. Before he did anything else reckless, Luke turned his attention back to Reggie’s t-shirt, scrubbing the remaining blood from it. He felt guilty. He knew what he was doing was wrong. Yes, he was giving Reggie affection and attention that he deserved and surely required, but wasn’t he taking advantage of him?? He was, inadvertently, using his obliviousness to boundaries for his own benefit, taking advantage of the situation for his own gain. It wasn’t right. Did Reggie even want him to kiss his wounds better, or was he just too nice to say anything?? He should probably stop.

He glanced back at Reggie, who was watching him, fully dressed again in his plaid shirt. “Are you ready to go back to the others?’ The bassist asked, a soft smile on his face.

Luke nodded, shaking himself from his thoughts. He unplugged the tap, wrung out Reggie’s shirt and the two of them ventured back to the others.

//

The day had passed in a blur. It had started out with band practice, the four of them going over their newest song again and again until they were confident in their roles. They’d started feeling out new melodies, brainstorming new ideas for songs and hanging out. When four o’clock came, Bobby had had to leave to go to his part time job, leaving the other three behind. Luke had taken to one corner with his song journal, pouring over it with rapt attention, scribbling down words and notes in his illegible handwriting. Alex was rehearsing his part in their songs on the drums, putting his whole heart into it, venting his anxiety. Reggie had taken to strumming on Luke’s acoustic guitar, playing an acoustic version of Get Lost and humming to himself. He was pretending he wasn’t in pain and desperately attempting to distract himself.

Reggie’s fingers slipped, tripping over the notes. He stifled a wince, trying to pick up from where he’d stumbled without drawing too much attention to it. He plucked at the notes, struggling to remember what they were. His hands were stinging, shaking, and it was so hard to focus. The resulting sound was a loud twang. Definitely not what he’d been playing.

Luke glanced up from his song book, concern etched into all of his features. “Are you okay, Reg?” He asked. Heat flooded Reggie’s cheeks and pooled in his stomach; he was embarrassed he’d been caught out. His heart was pounding too loudly in his ears.

“Yeah. My hands just hurt, must be from playing too much. You know me, I always forget my pick.” He laughed nervously. That was half the reason. What Reggie didn’t say was that he’d secretly been doing the housework whilst his parents slept. It had been a desperate attempt to stop them fighting about it. Every night that week. He’d tried his best to do it safely, but the bleach had burned his fingers and gotten under his fingernails. He’d tried to scrub it from his hands but the damage had already been done. It stung.

Luke read the unspoken words on his face, his eyebrows knotting with sympathy. Reggie couldn’t look at him. He directed his gaze towards Alex instead. The drummer was watching him with the same empathy. It didn’t make him feel as embarrassed.

“Here, let me.” Reggie jumped, his eyes snapping back to Luke who was in his personal space. Luke gently took his guitar from him, propping it up against the end of the sofa and sitting down beside him. He took Reggie’s hands in his, a small smile on his face. Reggie was overly conscious of how close he was, of his expression, of the way his eyes changed as the garage light washed over them, iridescent like a kaleidoscope. He was transfixed. Warmth spread from his hands to his chest, buzzing through his veins. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the studio. It felt like he’d been electrocuted. Just like that time he’d fixed his amp in the rain. He was on fire with electric energy.

Luke pulled Reggie’s hands up to his face and pressed a kiss to his palm, his lips soft. Reggie focused solely on the sensation, fixating on the tenderness of it. He felt it again and again, echoing in his head, in his hands. There was nothing else. There was only Luke. Luke, with his fingers circled around his wrist. Luke, with his lips pressed to his palms. Luke. Luke. Luke.

_Oh._

It hit Reggie like an avalanche. All the signs had been there, but it had still buried him six feet under when it came. How had he missed it? He inhaled sharply, suddenly unable to breathe. He was suffocating. He was burning up. He was on fire. 

He was in love with Luke. _He_ was in love with _Luke._ Luke Patterson, one of best friends. The ice had melted, and Reggie was drowning. He was drowning. He was drowning. Nothing made sense anymore.

Luke did the same to his other hand. He could breathe again. He was tied to Luke like a lifeline. He wanted to cry. This complicated everything. How could he let Luke kiss him so casually now? How could he look him in the eye? What would it do to the band? And Alex-

_Oh God, Alex._

Reggie tore his eyes away from Luke, glancing towards Alex. He was pointedly staring at his lap, his expression wistful, sadness written into all of his features. Guilt immediately flooded Reggie’s gut. He remembered the conversation they’d had the week before, replaying it in his mind. Alex had confessed, after prompting, that he had a crush on Luke, and Reggie had encouraged him to speak to Luke about it; to tell him or ask him out. Alex had asked him again, and again, if Reggie was sure he was okay with it, and Reggie had insisted he was, confused as to why he’d have a problem with it. He’d reminded Alex that he wasn’t homophobic, and he’d never have a problem with who he dated. Of course, that hadn’t been what Alex had meant. _Of course_ , Alex had picked up on Reggie’s feelings before even he did. He was so stupid.

What was he supposed to do? He was hurting Alex. Unintentionally, but hurting him all the same. Here he was, just letting Luke kiss his hands like it was nothing. Because that’s all it was to Luke, nothing; it was just his way of making up for what his parents deprived him of. Luke was a good friend, always trying to ensure he didn’t miss out, always making sure he felt loved. Reggie appreciated it more than he could articulate. But he’d gone and made that weird by falling in love with him. Why couldn’t he have just let it be a harmless platonic thing? A familial thing? Why did he have to fall in love with him? Should he ask him to stop? He definitely should. He was taking advantage of Luke’s kindness, taking his actions completely out of context. This was wrong. And Alex- Alex deserved better too. He should have the opportunity to actually talk to Luke, to confess his feelings without Reggie getting in the way.

Reggie snapped himself out of his thoughts, realising he was spiralling, and composed his features. Just in time. Luke looked back up at him, shy smile and questioning eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked again.

Summoning all of his courage, Reggie pasted a smile across his face. The smile he used when his parents were fighting and he didn’t want people to worry; the smile he used to deflect his hurt when people touched on a sore subject; the smile he used when people called him stupid and oblivious. “Yeah, all good now. Thanks Luke.”

Normally, Luke could see through his smiles; he always saw the truth. This time, his smile fooled him. Luke grinned back, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks dimpling. Reggie’s heart stuttered, the want growing inside of him to taste Luke’s smile. He thought it would taste like sunshine. He swallowed, stuffing the want down, burying it beneath every other emotion he suppressed, right beside his feelings towards his parents. It was just another thing he couldn’t have; he couldn’t do that to Alex, and he wasn’t good enough for Luke. It was just how it was. As long as he had them in his life, as long as they were his family, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the birthday scene seems super awkward; I never actually celebrate my birthday so I don’t rlly know what people do for it xD  
> Also, lets pretend I didn’t completely space on the fact you actually see Luke’s house and made something else up instead, that was my bad and I didn’t want to go back and change it all ;-;  
> Stay tuned for the other two parts, and please, if you can, spare a comment and tell me your opinion, whether it’s to shout enthusiasm or criticisms, I appreciate them all the same, and it helps my motivation a lot TvT  
> Thanks for reading, have a good day ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, I lowkey hate this chapter and idk if it’s just because I’ve been staring at this for too long, but it feels so incredibly repetitive to me, but it could just be b/c I’ve read it 438985487 times to edit it  
> idk if it’s too dialogue heavy too ;-;
> 
> I’m so sorry for all the angst btw, I intended originally to just have a lil bit of angst, but this chapter lowkey became angst central  
> Again, I’m sorry if anyone feels super out of character, I tried my best ;-;
> 
> ANYWAY, thank you all so much for your kind comments, I’ve obsessively read them about a million times over the past two weeks to motivate myself and just sob over how sweet y’all are <3

It had been three weeks. Three weeks since Reggie had realised he was in love with Luke, three weeks of deciding he’d never act on it, three weeks of dancing around the topic in his head. He’d been extra careful in that time, paying more attention to his surroundings and ensuring he didn’t injure himself, or could, at the very least, suppress his cry of pain. It was better that way. Luke wouldn’t kiss him if he didn’t hurt himself. And if Luke didn’t kiss him, Reggie could pretend everything was okay, and that he wasn’t slowly dying inside.

He’d started leaving rehearsal with Bobby, occasionally even before him, picking up extra shifts at the grocery store he’d previously done a shift a week at. He was doing whatever he could to distract himself, whatever he could to allow Luke and Alex to be alone. He was routing for them; routing for Alex to confess his feelings, routing for Luke to return them. If his heart started bleeding every time he thought of them together, well, that was for only him to know.

The extra shifts only filled up a few afternoons. Desperate to keep busy, he’d taken up another job: walking dogs. It had started with an old woman, who lived one street away from Bobby’s, who had left flyers tacked up on lamp-posts advertising the position. It was little money, but Reggie was in it for the dogs and the distraction, the money hardly mattered to him. He’d walked her dog – a little Pomeranian named Pretzel – for an hour every evening and she’d spread the word, telling her other friends with dogs of his good work. He’d ended up with three more gigs. Betty, the Great Dane, every afternoon; Kermit, the Dachshund, four days a week; and Lily, the Jack Russel, three days a week. It definitely kept him busy.

He’d used the extra money to buy himself his own song book – a smaller version of the one he’d bought Luke – that he scribbled song lyrics and doodled in. Reggie wrote primarily country songs, imagining a life far away from his own, a much simpler life. A life on a farm, with a horse and some farm animals, a dog or two, and a family that loved him. That actually cared. He hid his feelings behind metaphors, describing his love for Luke like he loved the sun, like he loved the breath of fresh air, like he loved sowing the fields. It was therapeutic. He understood why Luke did it so much.

Reggie spent those times sat on the pier, staring out to the sea. He stuffed his feelings for Luke into bottles and pushed them out there, sending them floating into the sea, letting them drift away and be swallowed by the great unknown. It was better that way. Playing pretend. He loved his friends so dearly, he never wanted to hurt them, never wanted to be responsible for their pain. He was okay hurting if it meant that they weren’t.

Adding to his suffering, Reggie’s parents had started getting worse. His father was drinking during the day again, skipping work and yelling slurred swears at the top of his lungs, accusing his wife of affairs and stealing money. His mother had retaliated by shouting louder, slamming doors and refusing to cook meals, refusing to be his ‘slave.’ It was unbearable. He’d started coming home later and later, searching for any excuse not to walk through that door.

That night, he could hear them as he was standing at the gate. Their voices were spitting hatred and venom, echoing around the house and bouncing down the street. Reggie had had enough.

Turning on his heels, he marched in the opposite direction, heading towards the studio. They’d had band practice that morning and he’d left to walk dogs at 2pm, taking out each of them individually before meandering around the pier for the night. It was likely that all the boys had gone home and he’d be free to hide there for the night. He fiddled with the key nervously (Luke had got him his own cut when he’d asked), twisting and twirling it around his fingers. If they were there, he’d just have to confess how bad home was, as much as he hated to admit it.

His thoughts swirled around in his head, taunting him, blaming him for his parents arguing, holding him accountable. He tried his best to prevent it; he did whatever housework he could, tried to silently fix their issues whilst they slept, and kept quiet when they screamed at him, let them pretend he didn’t exist when he was home. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Reggie was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realise the studio light was on until he opened the door and was almost met with a guitar to the face. Gasping in shock, he stepped backwards, arms up on a reflex. Luke blinked at him, grimaced and lowered his guitar.

“Sorry man, you startled me.”

Reggie laughed awkwardly, adverting his eyes from Luke and heading towards the sofa, dropping his backpack on the floor on the way across. He hadn’t been alone with Luke since he’d realised his feelings, and he was already dreading it. Dropping down on the soft cushions, he pulled his knees up to his chest, risking a glance in Luke’s direction. The latter was sitting back down on the pull-out bed, guitar on his duvet and songbook open on his pillow.

“Did you argue with your mum?” Reggie risked asking, wondering why Luke was there and not at home. He shifted, dropping his legs back to the floor and bouncing them up and down, an outlet for his restless energy.

“Nah, thankfully.” Luke met Reggie’s eyes and gave a sad smile. “We actually haven’t argued for a while, but I’ve been super inspired to write these new songs-“ His enthusiasm was picking up, lighting up his face, his eyes, his smile glowing- “I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until they were done, and well, home isn’t the place to write music all night. I knew that would start an argument. So here I am, I’m so close to finishing this song, I’ve just gotta nail the melody and this one riff, then it’ll be all ready to go. I’m gonna pitch it to you guys next rehearsal, so you better be ready!”

“Sounds good.” Reggie grinned. Luke’s enthusiasm was always contagious, spreading like wildfire, overtaking anyone in its path.

“Hey.” Luke’s expression turned serious and he rose to his feet, moving in Reggie’s direction. Reggie’s heart sped up, fear and anticipation seeping into his veins. 

“Are your parents-“ Luke trailed off, the rest of his sentence hanging in the air. He plopped down beside Reggie, sitting so close that he could feel the heat radiating from him, seeping into his skin. He was hyper aware of every point of contact: Luke’s shoulder brushing up against his, their knees bumping together as Reggie bounced his legs up and down. It was distracting. Reggie wanted to lean into him, to savour Luke’s presence and warmth. He couldn’t stand it. Guilt immediately flooded him, that sad look he’d seen on Alex’s face flashing through his mind.

Jumping up, Reggie scrambled over to his bag, tipping the contents onto the floor and searching through them for something to do. His hands were shaking. It was wrong. It was wrong. It was wrong. He shouldn’t want more. Luke had always been there, always offering his reassurance through tactile comforts, through his touch, but Reggie couldn’t have that without wanting more. He couldn’t let himself want more. So he couldn’t let himself accept Luke’s touch, regardless of how small and platonic it was.

“They’re fine.” He said quietly. “I’m just getting the drop on them. If I get myself out of there early enough then I won’t be around when the fighting starts. Smart, right?” Reggie tried for a smile, glancing back up at Luke. He was wearing his signature hurt puppy expression, arms folded, eyebrows knitted together, lips pouted. Heat flooded Reggie’s cheeks as he tore his eyes away, fidgeting with the zip on his bag. He was just projecting, that was obviously it. He was hurt and convincing himself that Luke was more upset than he was. At best, he’d just offended Luke and read too much into it.

Luke had always been a tactile person and he never took lightly to being deprived of the attention and physical contact he needed. It had made the first few months of their friendship interesting; Reggie had been extremely touch adverse and Luke couldn’t process the fact he maintained a distance from him. Gradually, Reggie had grown accustomed to Luke’s touchiness, he had even welcomed it and started craving it, using it as his lifeline. When Alex and Bobby had come along, he’d opened up to them too, allowing their tactile admissions of friendship and love. Newcomers were still an issue, and Reggie often shied away from their advances, but his band, his real family, they were an exception. Especially Luke. He’d never understood why until recently.

“How have things been with you lately?” Reggie asked, desperate to change the subject. “We haven’t really had much time to hang out except rehearsals. I’ve been working extra shifts at the grocery store, and I got this dog walking gig with like four different houses down this one street. It started with one person and they told the other, who told the other, I got pretty busy so fast. There’s this one house who own this giant dog – I think she’s like a Great Dane, when I’m sat on the floor, she likes towers over me.” He gestured with his arms as he spoke, demonstrating her height. “But she’s got a heart of gold. She’s so soft, she’s got this tattered bear that she brings everywhere and always tries to bring on our walks, even though she’s not allowed. She absolutely loves chasing balls down the beach. Oh, and-“

Reggie realised he was rambling, slowly shutting his mouth. He laughed, nervously. “How have things been with you?”

“I’m glad you’ve been keeping yourself busy.” Luke said softly. “Uh, things have been good lately. Really good.” He breathed. Something about his voice made Reggie glance up. Luke’s cheeks were coloured, a fond expression on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes trained on the sofa. “Uh, it’s not super official or anything, we’ve only been on one date so it’s still new, so we haven’t told anyone, but Alex and I started dating.”

“Oh.” It was out of Reggie’s mouth before he could stop himself. Ignoring the hole opening in his chest, he rambled on. “Uh, thank you for telling me, I’m really happy for you guys. I mean, even if you’ve only been on one date, it sounds like it went well, and I love you guys so much, so I just want you both to be happy, so as long as you’re both happy, so am I.” He flustered; he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

Luke laughed, his eyes finally meeting Reggie’s again. “Thanks, Reg. Alex told me that you encouraged him to tell me, so thank you for doing that.”

“Happy to help.” He beamed. He was happy for them. He was. Even though he was drowning, suddenly swallowed by his own sorrow, he was happy for them. They were his family. They always came first. If they were happy, he could be too. That was what mattered to him. It was always what mattered.

Reggie shoved his belongings back into his bag, throwing in his feelings alongside them, sealing them away as he redid the zip.

“Don’t worry, it won’t affect the band. We already talked about it, and if we did break up, which really hope we don’t, but if, for some reason, we did, the band would come first.” Luke reassured him.

“Of course, dude.” Reggie didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to hear that. He’d wanted it, he’d pushed for it, but having to face it, it hurt him. It broke his heart. He hadn’t been prepared for how much it would hurt. Like a thousand needles stabbing into his skin simultaneously, like all the air being sucked from his lungs, like ice trickling through his veins. He would never be warm again.

Reggie swallowed, pushing the feeling down, fighting against his own selfish desires. He wouldn’t let himself feel this. He wouldn’t make it about him. It wasn’t about him. It was about his friends. It was about their happiness. That was so much more important. 

He summoned his smile, bit back his tears, forced the cheerful tone back through. “Tell me about your date then.”

Luke grinned at him, his smile reflecting in his eyes. That was worth it. All the pain, all the hurt. Seeing Luke happy, that would always be worth it. Enthusiastically, Luke delved into retelling how Alex had confessed to him, how he’d asked him on a date and they’d both been stupidly nervous despite already knowing everything about each other. It had been a simple date; they’d just gone to the movie theatre and it had been ridiculously awkward. Afterwards, they’d gone to Luke’s house and, after writing music together, they’d realised how much they’d been overcomplicating things. It had been easier after that. Luke told him it ended up being the best date he’d ever been on.

Reggie smiled and laughed with him, nodding his head as he spoke, ensuring Luke knew he was listening. He was happy for them. They were the two people he loved the most, and nothing would ever change or taint that.

Luke played some of the pieces he’d written with Alex, before passing out on the pull-out bed. Reggie settled himself on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Listening to Luke’s snoring, he allowed himself to realise that it had been the first time, since he’d started doing it, that Luke hadn’t kissed his forehead when his parents fought. He didn’t sleep.

//

It had been two months since Luke started dating Alex, and he’d not kissed Reggie since then. Obviously. Because that would be weird, and inappropriate, and he’d gotten accustomed to shoving down every single one of his feelings for Reggie. He’d thought, desperately hoped, that they’d fade, disappear. He’d thought that the way he felt about Alex would overpower them. They hadn’t. And it was driving him to the brink of insanity.

Luke loved Alex, he really did, but it felt different. A different kind of love. He didn’t know what that meant. He couldn’t work it out. Not that it mattered, because Reggie was straight and unavailable, and there was Alex, who was _so_ out of his league; so genuine, so funny, so down to earth. He loved him so much. It wasn’t the same. Alex deserved better. He deserved someone who would give him the world without him asking, who could offer him as much love as Alex handed out.

Luke didn’t know how to feel about it. He didn’t know what it meant. He was one tiny thing away from having a full-blown crisis and breakdown over it. He’d been putting it to the back of his mind, hoping that it would resolve itself, hoping he could untangle the web his feelings had become. It hadn’t been working. They just kept creeping back up, attacking him when he was vulnerable and pushing him overboard. He wanted to find a solution, a way to resolve it all without hurting anyone, without hurting his two closest friends. Even if he was getting hurt in the process.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Luke focused on the matter at hand: deciding a set list for their upcoming gig. It was going to be their biggest performance to date; a local club that could house over a hundred people. They’d gotten close to selling out their tickets. It was exciting, and terrifying. With each day, they were getting closer to their dream, to spreading their music worldwide, to sharing that magic. He was buzzing with anticipation, eager to get started, eager to be there.

“So we’re thinking Now or Never, Get Lost, Long Weekend and Bright?” Luke asked, scribbling notes in the front of his journal. “And an encore before Late Last Night and Lakeside Reflection. Sound good?”

The others nodded in agreement, smiles stretching across their faces as their excitement shone through. Luke watched Alex, the latter’s smile spreading as their eyes met. Luke’s heart ached.

“So who’s ready to rehearse?” He said, channelling his enthusiasm into his voice, into his actions, using that to drive him. He jumped up, retrieving his electric guitar and swinging it around his neck. He could worry about his feelings later, late at night when no-one was around to hear him cry and stress himself into a hole. They always joked that Alex was the anxious one, but Luke was becoming so consumed by anxiety and his conflicting emotions that his blood was humming with it.

He turned the dials on his amp and guitar, adjusting the settings and ensuring everything was in tune. Strumming a few chords, he glanced around him, checking the others were ready. They gave him the thumbs up and he dived into Now or Never, dissolving his mind in electric lines. He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, cleanse him, energise him. It ebbed through his veins, his soul bleeding out, intertwining itself with the music, flowing into the chords.

It energised the four of them, pumping new life into them, hyping them up. They bounced around, channeling it, letting it control them. It was what their purpose, their drive, where they were supposed to be.

Luke sang the chorus, his feet constantly moving, his gaze flickering between each of his band mates. Bobby raised his guitar in the air, strumming it above his head, showing off as he often did. Reggie swung his head forward a little too vigorously, completely spatially unaware, and smashed his head into his amp. He staggered backwards, knees crumbling, his bass slapping against his abdomen as he dropped to the floor. Curling into himself, he groaned loudly, arms coming up to his face, his voice laced with pain.

Luke dropped his guitar, rushing over to his friend and checking him for blood. He gently nudged Reggie’s arms out of the way so he could see his face, leaning into his space and relieved to find no open wound. Reggie blinked up at him, eyes unfocused, his face stark white. It didn’t look good. Worry was gnawing at Luke’s insides.

“Can you sit up?” He asked, his arms snaking around Reggie’s shoulders, supporting him as he pulled him into an upright position. Reggie made soft, startled noises, but he managed to stay sat up. The colour was slowly returning to his cheeks. Luke examined him again for injuries, gaze skirting over his face, delicately brushing his hair out of the way, hand cradling his chin. He jumped backwards when he realised how close he’d gotten, putting more space between them, guilt pooling in his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked. Reggie nodded slowly, his eyes focusing.

“Mhm. My vision was fuzzy for a second there, thought I was gonna pass out, but I’m okay.” Reggie said softly. “I think I might be sick though. My head is pounding.”

“Here.” Alex said from behind Luke, the latter jumping in surprise, as he leaned over to hand Reggie a bottle of water. He unzipped his fanny pack, retrieving a packet of pain killers, and passed them over. “Hey Bobby. Can you check Reg for concussion? I need to talk to Luke outside for a sec.”

Bobby nodded, kneeling down beside Reggie, asking him the basics. Alex slipped his hand into Luke’s, using their joined fingers to lead him outside. When they were out of the studio, he pulled his hand away, closing the door behind them, and turned to finally meet Luke’s eyes. Luke’s heart was thrumming in his chest, his nerves frayed and on edge.

“What’s up, Alex?” Luke asked. The look on the drummer’s face was making him anxious. His expression was pained, like the words he wished to speak were slowly poisoning him.

“I think-“ Alex swallowed. “I think we need to break up.”

Pain and panic flared up inside Luke’s chest. “No, wait- what?”

“Look.” Alex bit his lip. “I’ve always known you were in love with Reggie, I knew that before we started dating, but I thought maybe that would change, or it would fade. I thought- I thought you could fall in love with me instead. That we could have that kind of relationship. But we can’t. And that’s okay. You only feel that way about Reggie. I get it.”

The fire inside Luke burned. Burned his heart, burned his lungs, burned his throat. He gasped for breath, hot tears trailing down his face. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want to hurt Alex. He couldn’t.

“But-‘ Luke choked, his voice thick and pleading. “I love you.”

Alex’s face contorted with sympathy, his hands resting on Luke’s cheeks. “I know, Luke, I love you too. But if you search your heart, you know it’s not the same.”

Luke’s stomach lurched, nausea flooding him. It was true. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was. He’d already known it, had tried to deny it and convince himself otherwise, but he couldn’t. He still didn’t want to hear it.

“You love me, yes.” Alex continued softly, barely above a whisper. “As your best friend, as family, but not romantically. And that’s okay, Luke. Really, it is. Now I know where I stand with you. We tried it. It didn’t work. That happens. We’re just better off as friends. That’s okay, it’s okay.”

Alex’s voice cracked, tears welling up in his eyes. Luke couldn’t stand it. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Alex, burying his face into him, sobbing. His heart was breaking. “Alex, please.”

“It’ll stop hurting, I promise. Maybe things will be awkward for a little bit, but we’ll be back to normal in no time.” Alex comforted him, arms tight around his shoulders. He pulled back, a small smile on his face. Putting his hands back on Luke’s cheeks, he wiped his tears with his thumbs. “We can just be best friends again. And as your best friend, I’m telling you, you need to talk to Reggie.”

Luke shook his head. He refused to hear it, not when Alex was breaking up with him, not when his hurt was spilling out of him and all over the floor. He couldn’t do it. Not to Alex, not to himself, not to Reggie. He’d resolved that he’d never let those feelings out, intent on burying them in a shallow grave to rot.

“Luke.” Alex said. He sighed, reading the intent on his face. “You need to talk to him.” Luke moved to pull away, retreating in on himself. Alex wouldn’t let him. He grabbed his wrists, keeping him grounded, keeping him there, in front of him. Luke hated that Alex knew him, hated that he drew comfort from the contact, hated that they were having this conversation. His stupid feelings ruined everything. They always did. Why couldn’t he just burn them with his heart and never feel again?

“Please listen to me. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it will feel like a giant weight off of you, and you’ll finally be able to get some closure. I know. Because confessing to you, our relationship, even this, now, breaking up with you, it’s a huge weight off my chest. It answered all the questions I had, no regrets, no what ifs. I’ll get my closure, I can move on and find someone else when the time is right. I know where I stand with you, I’ll never be sat wondering what could have happened if I’d told you. Luke, please, tell him. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Alex.”

“I am happy, Luke.” He smiled to prove his point. Tears stained his cheek, but Luke still believed him. “I promise you, even if it doesn’t feel it right now, it’s better this way.”

Luke nodded, accepting his fate. There was nothing he could say to change Alex’s mind. They were broken up, they were no longer a couple, they were best friends. He knew Alex was right; it was better that way. It didn’t change how much it hurt. The pain gnawed away at him, consuming more and more of his soul.

“It’s going to be okay, Luke.” Alex smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He wrapped him back up into a hug, holding him until his sobs subsided and they were both composed enough to go back inside.

//

Reggie was fed up. He was tired, he was in pain, and he just wanted his parents to stop. For once. One night without them screaming the house down. Was that too much to ask?? His head was throbbing enough without them yelling, he just needed some peace and quiet.

He stumbled out of bed, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. The bruise on his forehead had darkened as the hours had passed, blue and black and blotchy. Rehearsal had ended pretty soon after it had happened. Bobby had checked him over for concussion, reaffirming that he knew who and where he was. Luke and Alex had disappeared for twenty minutes, both quiet and distant when they returned. Reggie wondered what had happened between them, and desperately hoped they were both okay.

It had taken ten minutes of the three of them glancing at him worriedly before Alex and Bobby had offered to walk him home. Home was the last place he wanted to be, but he knew it’d be better to attempt to get some rest. If only he could rest at home. He’d said goodbye to them at the door, giving them both tight hugs and thanking them, before sneaking into his own house. He’d managed to avoid his parents, slipping up into his bedroom and hiding there. It had gone smoothly, right up until he’d returned to the kitchen for some water and more painkillers. His mother had spotted him in there, coming to ask him something before spotting his injury. She’d taken one look at the forming bruise and marched into the next room, screaming at her husband and accusing him of beating their child. The arguments hadn’t stopped since.

Reggie’s headache was getting worse. The pain was consuming the rest of his senses, making it impossible to think, to breathe, to sleep. He needed to leave. It wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was the only option available. He decided, at the very least, he’d take the stairs instead of the window. The last thing he needed was to get hit with a dizzy spell and fall. If his luck was anything to go by, he’d break all of his bones and be left there, stranded, until the Meyerson’s found him, or one of his friends came by. His parents certainly wouldn’t notice.

Tossing a spare pair of clothes, his journal and his pyjamas into a bag, he slung it over his shoulder and tiptoed out of his room. The floorboards squeaked, but it was barely audible over the sound of his parents. He slipped into the kitchen as he passed by, grabbing a bottle of water and some more painkillers, before leaving through the front door.

The fresh air hit his skin in a cold blast, soothing him, dulling the pain. Reggie breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the quiet, thankful for an escape. He turned in the direction of the studio, intent on hiding there and crashing on the couch. His friends would likely chide him for not going somewhere he could be monitored, on the off chance he did have concussion, but he refused to bother them further. He’d caused them enough worry that day.

As he approached the garage, he noticed the soft glow of the light coming through the windows. Either someone had left it on, or someone was inside. Sighing and preparing to explain himself, he swung open the door and moved inside.

Reggie opened his mouth to apologise for intruding but stopped in his tracks as he processed what he saw. Luke was sat on the floor, back pressed against the sofa, furiously wiping at his cheeks, his eyes red rimmed and puffy. He’d been crying. He tried a smile, attempting to play it off, but his smile wobbled and he was trembling.

Headache be damned, Reggie rushed towards him, sitting beside him on the floor. He opened his arms in silent question, offering the comfort he knew Luke craved. Luke answered by falling into him.

“What happened, Luke?” He asked softly, one hand carding through Luke’s hair and the other rubbing his back.

“Alex- Alex and I broke up.” Luke hiccuped, his voice thick. He sniffled, stifled a sob, gasped, and the tears were streaming down his face again. “It’s probably for the best, Alex is right, we are better as friends. And he- he was right about what we spoke about. It just- It doesn’t make it hurt any less. I love and care about Alex so much. I- I don’t know what to do. Alex- he might be right, but I’m not sure I can do anything about it.”

Reggie listened patiently, his heart contracting. He hated that Luke was in pain. That Alex was in pain. He hated that it had ended like this.

“It won’t- It’s not going to affect the band. It means too much to the both of us, and we’re still on good terms, so don’t worry about that.”

“Luke.” Reggie said firmly. “The band is the last thing on my mind. I care more about you, and Alex. I want you both to be okay.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” Luke sobbed. He scrubbed at his face, pressing his forehead into Reggie’s collarbone. “It hurts so much.”

“I know, Luke, I know.” Reggie reassured him gently, pulling him closer, wrapping both his arms around him, enveloping him in a safety bubble.

“I’m scared it’s going to be weird between us. He probably hates me.”

“Alex could never hate you. As annoying and obnoxious as you can be sometimes-“ Luke hiccuped a laugh at that- “he would never hate you. And even if it is weird for a bit, it won’t last. It’ll be okay, Luke. I promise.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see this. I know you’re probably here because of your parents, and the last thing you need is- this, me, dealing with this.”

Reggie pulled back, expression serious. “Luke, you never need to apologise. Not to mention, it’s me who’s intruding. You pay the rent on this garage, it’s essentially your studio.”

“That’s besides the point, Reg. I know this is your safe space too. I just- I couldn’t be at home. I never actually told my parents I was dating Alex, they still think I’m dating-“ He screwed up his face, looking pained. “I’d have to explain it to them, and I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“That’s understandable, Luke. You don’t have to explain yourself, to me, or to anyone. You came here for a reason, and that’s for you, not anyone else.”

“Thanks Reg.” He whispered, burying his face into Reggie’s shoulder. Reggie patted his head gently. He hoped he could bring Luke some comfort and peace. Breaking up with someone was always hard, breaking up with a friend was a million times harder.

“Hey, you should try and get some sleep. It might help you feel better, even just a little bit. You can take the bed, and I’ll crash on the sofa.”

Luke nodded in agreement, drawing back and running his hands through his hair. He’d stopped crying, but his face was still blotchy and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked a mess. It hurt Reggie to see him like this, lacking all his usual happiness and enthusiasm; to see him so broken. Hoping it could be as comforting for Luke as it was for him, Reggie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Luke’s forehead. “It will be better.” He whispered, echoing the words Luke always used. He couldn’t convey the same certainty that it would be true, but he tried his best.

Luke gaped up at him, shock written all over his face. Embarrassment and regret pooled in Reggie’s stomach and he climbed to his feet, intent on busying himself. He almost missed Luke’s small, “Thank you.”

“Sleep.” Reggie said again, gesturing to the pull-out bed. Luke nodded dumbly, stumbling towards the bed like he was in a trance. He settled himself there, burying himself under the duvet. Reggie grabbed his bag and stepped into the bathroom, changing into his pyjamas quickly before returning.

“Are you sure you’re okay on the couch?” Luke asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Reggie reassured him. They’d shared a bed countless times, even as they’d gotten older, they’d never quite grown out of it. But Reggie didn’t think it would be right to when Luke was upset and vulnerable. Reggie had tried, he really had, to banish all his feelings for Luke, but they had stayed, stubbornly, in his heart, a constant torch he carried. Sharing a bed with him would be too much like taking advantage of him. Reggie refused to do that. “I promise. Just get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Luke curled in on himself, and within moments, was asleep. Reggie settled himself on the sofa, cocooning himself in a blanket. He soon followed suit.

//

Luke rounded the corner, following the directions Reggie had scribbled for him on a torn piece of paper. The latter had talked him into joining him for dog walking, claiming it would be fun and help him get out of the house. Luke was torn; torn between his want to stop himself moping, and his need to think about anything that wasn’t related to Reggie. Reggie’s persistent asking and matching puppy eyes had won the ongoing war in his head, and Alex had given him a pointed this-would-be-a-good-time-to-talk-to-him look when he’d agreed. He wished Alex would stop. He knew he had his best interests at heart, but the wound was still _too_ fresh. Every time he saw Alex, every time a moment of awkward silent passed between them, the wound started bleeding all over again. He’d seriously considered skipping band practice several times to avoid it, but he knew, deep in his heart, that that would achieve nothing.

“Hey Luke, over here!” A voice called, snapping Luke from his thoughts. He glanced in the direction it had come from, spotting Reggie and the biggest dog he’d ever seen. She was white with grey patches, a blue collar around her neck,and her head was easily level with Reggie’s hip.

“This is Betty.” Reggie introduced her as they got closer, passing her lead towards Luke. “She might look big and scary at first, but she’s so soft. Kinda like you.” Reggie bumped their shoulders together, and Luke’s breath caught in his throat. Since his breakup with Alex, his feelings for Reggie had washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him, keeping him submerged. His heart was siding with Alex, trying to persuade him to just tell Reggie how he felt, but Luke was nothing if not stubborn. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, tell him.

_Coward_ , his heart whispered.

“Where do you want to take her?? I usually walk her to the beach and let her run around, but it’s your call.”

“Sounds good to me.” Luke smiled in response. “Lead the way.”

Reggie didn’t need to be told twice. He set off down the street, humming to himself. Luke listened to the tune, identifying it as one of the country songs Reggie had recommended he listen to. He’d never admit it, especially not to Reggie, but he secretly liked the country music he’d suggested. They always made him feel a certain way; nostalgic for warm, summer days and late night conversations.

They walked in a comfortable silence, Reggie tossing a ball from hand to hand, Betty swooping in to steal it every time he dropped it. Luke watched them fondly, ignoring the warm feeling in his chest, pretending it was just platonic. He was just hanging out with his friend and a dog. That was it. Nothing more.

When they reached the beach, Reggie knelt beside Betty to unclip her lead, taking it gently from Luke’s hand. Turning, he launched the ball and Betty darted after it, her long legs kicking up sand as she ran.

“She really loves that ball.” He smiled, watching her.

“She seems to really like you too.”

“Yeah, well. I have been walking her for like three months now. Don’t tell the others, but she’s my favourite.”

Ball in her mouth, Betty galloped back towards them. Luke held out his hand expectantly, waiting for her to drop it.

“Oh no, that won’t work. You have to-“ Reggie cut himself off, grappling for the ball in her mouth. Taking her by surprise, he managed to retrieve it. She barked at him, and he held it out of her reach, standing on his tiptoes.

Betty tackled Reggie, standing on her back legs and using her front paws to knock him backwards into the sand. She licked his face, sniffing and searching for her ball. He squealed and squirmed, laughing loudly. It was contagious. Luke chortled with laughter, doubling over, feeling lighter than he had in days. Betty snatched the ball from Reggie’s fingers and bounded away, retreating into the water where he wouldn’t follow her. He shuddered, brushing his forearm over his face and screwing up his features as he tasted sand. Luke laughed harder.

“Hey, it’s not funny.” Reggie pouted, scrambling to his feet and tackling Luke. He landed with a soft thud, barely able to recover before Reggie was flicking sand in his direction. “I’ll bury you, Patterson.”

“Just you try it.” Luke smirked, shielding his face with his hands. “Me and Betty will team up and chuck you in the sea.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” Luke bit his lip, considering it a challenge. He jumped to his feet and scooped Reggie up in his arms, bridal style. Reggie flailed and protested, cheeks red and voice panicked.

“Luke, stop, no.” He whined, trying to twist out of his arms. Luke was stronger, and he wasn’t letting him off that easily. Betty, sensing the distress, darted over, barking. As she reached them, she sniffed Luke’s legs, his hands, realising he posed no threat. She, instead, excitedly circled his feet as he marched towards the sea.

“Betty, you traitor!”

“You’re gonna get dunked. Accept your fate.” He grinned at Reggie, who, upon meeting his eyes, fell silent. Luke glanced away quickly, suddenly feeling too hot and self-conscious. He really had to think his actions through more. Carrying someone bridal style didn’t exactly scream platonic. It was too late now, and Luke was determined to see his plan through.

As they reached the sea, Reggie started squirming and complaining again, trying to argue his case for why Luke should just let him go there. Luke shook his head with a smirk, intentionally splashing the water upwards as he waded in.

“Hold your breath.” He said, and tossed Reggie into the sea. The latter gasped in surprise, putting his hands over his mouth and closing his eyes as he hit the water. He resurfaced a moment later, drenched from head to toe, clothes clinging to his skin, eyebrows furrowed and pouting. Luke laughed loudly, joyously, splashing water towards him with the back of his hand. He jumped backwards, looking offended.

“Oh, it’s on.” Reggie said, rushing forward and looping his arm around Luke’s neck. Luke had approximately three seconds to panic over their proximity before Reggie pulled him into the water. Luke squirmed out of his grip, using the momentum to push him further under as he reemerged.

War broke out, the two of them battling over who could push the other under, wrestling to get the upper hand. Betty swam around them, placing her bets and squirming her way between them when she wanted attention, or her ball throwing. They fought over ball throwing rights too. It was exhilarating; the kind of fun that adults scoffed at, deeming it childish and inappropriate for older teenaged boys. They didn’t care.

The war was over when they were both exhausted, gasping for breath and ready to go bury themselves in the sand. Luke glanced towards Reggie, unable to resist flicking some water in his face to gain his attention. He turned towards him.

Hair plastered to his forehead, smile stretched across his face and eyes bright, Reggie had never looked cuter. He was glowing with life. Luke’s heart stuttered, the words building up in his throat, desperate to be spoken. “Reggie.” He whispered. His voice sounded too vulnerable to his own ears, too obvious.

“Yeah?” Reggie asked, his smile dropping from his face in response to his serious tone.

Luke opened his mouth. Closed it again. The words wouldn’t come out. His courage failed. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t risk what they had. “Thank you. For today.”

Reggie breathed a sigh of relief, his features lighting up as he nodded. “Any time.”

//

“And to work out how to get x, you do this formula using the y, which is this number here. Does that make sense?” Alex asked. Reggie stared at him blankly, not having understood a word of it. The two of them were going through their algebra homework in the studio whilst they waited for Bobby and Luke to arrive. Algebra had never been Reggie’s strong point. He struggled to remember any of the equations, and there were so many numbers that it all just went over his head. He wanted, desperately wished, he could understand it, wished he could pay full attention when the teachers explained impatiently how to do it, but he couldn’t. He could never focus, and he didn’t know how to explain why without sounding like he was making excuses.

“Uhm, no.” Reggie said quietly, fiddling with the leather straps around his wrist.

“Would it help if I made it more visual? With colours?”

“Maybe.” Reggie nodded. “Sorry, I know I’m not-“ He waved his hands. He liked learning, he really did, but he struggled with it. His teachers didn’t seem to understand that his brain worked differently, that he needed a moment to process the information, that he couldn’t focus without other stimuli. Time constraints worked against him, and he needed things to be more visual, more stimulating, more engaging.

“Reg, you’ve got this, okay? I said I’d help you, and I’m going to help you in a way that works for you. It’s no good tutoring you if it doesn’t make it into that brain of yours.” He tapped Reggie’s forehead, illustrating his point.

“Thank you, Alex.”

The studio door creaked open, revealing an out-of-breath Bobby. “Sorry, I’m late.” He gasped. “My shift ran late.” He glanced around the room, noticing he wasn’t the only one missing. “Where’s Luke?”

Reggie shrugged, and Alex grimaced.

“Guess I didn’t need to run then.” Bobby laughed. He moved over to the couch, throwing himself onto it and pulling a drink out of his bag. He leaned back, allowing himself to recatch his breath.

Alex turned back to Reggie. “Um, speaking of Luke, did he tell you about…” He started, trailing off. Reggie waited a moment, allowing him the space to continue speaking. He didn’t.

“Yeah, he mentioned you broke up. I, uh, I found him crying that day, so he told me.” Reggie said. He cursed himself as a thought occurred to him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever asked you if you’re okay, even though we’ve hung out so many times since. Are you okay?”

Alex smiled, his eyes sad. “Don’t worry about it, Reg. I’m okay. It’s not like I’ve lost Luke. We’re just friends now, and that’s for the better. It’s not like we don’t love each other, just as friends, as family. That’s all we’ll ever be, and that’s okay.” He said it firmly, believing every word.

“Hey, some day, you’ll find the perfect guy for you. You’re too much of a catch to stay single forever.”

Alex laughed. “Yeah, thanks Reg.”

“Uh, do you want a hug?” Reggie offered, opening his arms. Alex nodded, hugging him tightly the way they always did. When he pulled away, his expression turned serious again.

“Did Luke talk to you about anything else?”

Reggie thought for a moment, replaying the conversation in their head. He had not. Unless Reggie had forgotten something. Which was likely; he was constantly forgetting things, and getting distracted here, there and everywhere. But he didn’t think he had.

“I don’t think so.” He said slowly. Alex sighed.

“Just know that when he does, not that you need it, but you have my blessing. I know you worry about that kind of thing.”

Reggie frowned in confusion, the conversation lost on him. He didn’t understand. He opened his mouth, staring into the distance as he tried to make sense of the words. If he was a comic book character, he imagined he’d have question marks surrounding him.

“That was weird, okay.” Alex cleared his throat, trying again. “Okay, about Luke, I know how you feel about-“

The rest of his sentence was cut off as the garage door squeaked open. Luke stood in the doorway, and he wasn’t alone. A girl stood beside him, approximately their age. She was shorter than Luke, no taller than his shoulder, and she was beautiful. Her long, raven curls bounced as she walked, her cheeks dimpled as she smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Luke. Reggie’s gaze dropped to their hands and noticed they were intertwined. He felt nauseous.

“Sorry I was late, I was just picking up my girlfriend, Jennifer.” Luke announced, skirting his eyes over Alex and Reggie, and settling on Bobby. He grinned. Reggie suddenly felt uncomfortable. He wanted to leave.

“Oh, for Gods sake.” He heard Alex say from behind him. He sounded annoyed and exasperated. Reggie didn’t blame him; it had only been three weeks since they’d broken up. That was fast. Way too fast. What was Luke doing??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, only one more part left to go ~
> 
> Again, please, if you can, spare a comment and tell me your opinion, whether it’s to shout enthusiasm or criticisms, I appreciate them all the same, and it helps my motivation a lot TvT
> 
> Have a good day ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m ngl, this chapter could probably be better, but I’ve been writing this since 11pm last night and it’s now 9am, oops, I was just rlly desperate to finish it and get it out there ^^
> 
> I’m sorry once again if anyone feels out of character, I tried my best!! 
> 
> CAN YOU BELIEVE WE FINALLY HAVE SURNAMES FOR REGGIE AND ALEX!?!?! I AM: DECEASED
> 
> ALSO, I don’t have the energy to reply to them all, but THANK YOU, THANK YOU ALL so, so, so incredibly much for all your comments, I’ve obsessively read them time and time again to motivate myself, and THRIVED off the amount of people who just slated Luke for his poor impulsive decision!!! Thank you all again for being so, so sweet <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy the conclusion to this story, thank you for coming on this journey with me ~

Luke knew he was an idiot. He knew what he’d done was stupid. He’d known it was stupid and the wrong thing to do before he’d done it and yet, he’d done it anyway. But he couldn’t talk to Reggie. There was no way he could just tell him, no way he could confess the feelings he’d harboured for him over the years. It was risking too much; the stakes were so high, and he had so much to lose. He couldn’t do it. So he’d deflected instead.

It hadn’t been hard. Sunset Curve was getting more well-known; he’d been recognised a handful of times on the street; there was a group of regular girls who swarmed the clubs they played at, asking constantly when they’d play again, hoping to glimpse them. He’d just gone there, finding the first girl he deemed attractive and flirting with her. It was the dumbest thing he’d ever done. It had been _so_ easy.

He was a coward. He’d taken the coward’s way out. Instead of just talking to the boy he was in love with, instead of just getting the weight of his feelings off his chest, he’d self-destructed. It was pointless anyway; Reggie was _definitely_ straight. So what did it matter? What he’d needed was a distraction. A way to distance himself from Reggie, a way to build a wall around his dumb, soft heart. It would be easier then. Easier to pretend.

They’d been dating for a week. A week of flirting, a week of pretending he couldn’t see her eyes drifting towards his lips, a week of carefully maintaining the distance between them. A week of dates, a week of her showing him off like a trophy, a week of regret. Luke couldn’t explain what impulse had led him to bring her to rehearsal. He just wanted Bobby to stop nagging him about moping over Alex, which, admittedly, he had been doing, but only while it had been awkward between them, and only because Alex’s words kept replaying in his head, reminding him of what he couldn’t do. He wanted Alex to stop giving him expectant looks, always glancing between him and Reggie in silent question. He wanted a meaningless distraction to sever his connection to Reggie, to stop the magnetic pull that drew him into his orbit, to stop himself from pining all the damn time. He was so terrified of how he felt, so scared of changing what they had, so scared of losing him. Nothing would ever be worth that.

But he’d heard Alex’s comment when they’d walked in, and knew he was just waiting to give him shit for it. He hoped that Jennifer hadn’t heard him. She probably had, which wasn’t ideal; Luke would hate for her to think that his friends didn’t like her. Bobby had saved the day, compensating for Alex’s lack of enthusiasm with excitement at her presence. He kept asking her a barrage of questions and commenting on how cool it was she was there. That was one positive; no more nagging.

At least, with her there, and him in his natural element, Luke had every opportunity to show off. Maybe, with Bobby encouraging him and spurring him on, he could actually turn off his brain enough to kiss her. He hadn’t yet. He hadn’t even considered it. Every time he saw her staring at his lips, he had to resist the urge to recoil. He liked her, he really did; she was attractive, she was bubbly, she laughed like a melody. He was just too distracted by the idea of kissing Reggie, too busy wondering how he’d taste, wondering if he could drown all his senses in him and make him forget his own name. She wasn’t Reggie and that was the problem. She couldn’t even compare.

Jennifer squealed delightedly as they picked up their instruments, clapping her hands together. Luke knew he should find it endearing, knew he was supposed to be preening at the attention, but he was just getting annoyed. Annoyed at himself primarily, regretting his impulsive decisions, regretting his need for attention and affection, regretting his inability to just be honest about the way he felt.

“We’re Sunset Curve, tell your friends.” Reggie said, his usual catchphrase, winking as he always did. Now that, that _was_ endearing.

“I think we should start with Crooked Teeth.” Alex said cheerfully. Luke was going to kill him. They’d established that Crooked Teeth was a love song – a desperate plea of one-sided pining, but only Alex knew that it was about Reggie. They’d talked about it two weeks ago in what had turned into Alex’s you-need-to-tell-him pep talks. They were oddly therapeutic, an actual outlet for his feelings, but he couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that always accompanied it. Alex, of all people, shouldn’t have to deal with that. He was such a good person, a good friend, and Luke wished he could have loved him the way he’d wanted. But Alex was right, he was _always_ right; they worked much better as friends.

“Sounds good. Let’s start there.” Bobby agreed. Reggie was nodding. He accepted his fate. Retuning his guitar, he let the calm of music wash over him.

“We ready, boys?’ Luke asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, strumming the opening chords. The bass line kicked in, and Luke’s heart stuttered, stopped, his eyes drifting towards Reggie. The rhythm guitar and drums followed, the instruments coming together in an electric harmony. It flowed through Luke’s veins, waking him up, flooding him with adrenaline. His soul was alive.

Luke started singing the opening verse, his voice low and raspy, pouring his emotions into it. His heart hurt with wanting. It had taken him months to perfect the lyrics to Crooked Teeth, months to articulate exactly how strongly he felt. When the song had finally been finished, it had been like being able to breathe again. Luke hadn’t even been aware that he’d been suffocating. Performing it, putting his heart and soul into it, eyes glued to Reggie, singing the words towards the person it was written for - it was freeing. Maybe Alex had a point.

As the chorus hit, Reggie turned towards Luke, eyes widening as he met his gaze. His cheeks coloured, but he didn’t turn away. Neither did Luke. He desperately wanted to go to Reggie, or get Reggie to come to him, but that would be too obvious, too telling. He couldn’t even use the cover of the song; he’d ensured when they’d added the melodies, the riffs and harmonies, that he didn’t have a part where they sung together. For good reason. Singing it together, inches from each other, would have been _way_ too much for his fragile heart. Performing it in general was too much for him.

“There’s a hole in my heart, and I know you could fill it.” Luke sang, feeling exposed and unguarded and _so_ alive with feeling. He couldn’t help it. With Reggie watching him, with their eyes meeting despite the distance between them, the energy passing between them was setting him ablaze. He was burning, buzzing with the urge to cross that distance, to break down every one of his walls, to make it so undeniably clear that he was in love with him. “Got me alive with some kind of feeling, smiling at me, you’re shining, you see. Killing me, with your crooked teeth.”

Luke tore his gaze away, closing his eyes as his guitar solo came around, wrapping the notes around himself like a safety blanket. It reverberated through him, igniting every part of his soul that wasn’t already on fire. He burned with adrenaline, with happiness, with energy. He was alive, alive, alive.

He opened his eyes, turning to face Alex, who looked incredibly smug and proud of himself. He knew exactly what he’d done. Luke couldn’t even bring himself to be mad. He climbed onto the drums’ podium, spinning and jumping off as a finale to his solo.

“Every day I’m in pain, because I know you don’t feel the same.” Reggie’s voice was hoarse, raw and full of emotion. Luke couldn’t breathe; all the air had been stolen from his lungs. He stopped functioning, forgot what lines were supposed to come next, what chords he was supposed to play. His brain was focusing solely on Reggie, his heart bleeding as he listened to him sing the words Luke had written about him. He was in awe. Transfixed. Mesmerised. “And every day I’m in pain, I’m in pain, I’m in pain.”

Reggie caught Luke’s gaze, snapping him back to the present. The latter jumped, suddenly too vulnerable, too aware of his feelings spilling out of him, engulfing him, drowning him. It was too much. He inhaled, focusing solely on playing his notes, training his eyes on the ground, ignoring the heat rushing to his face and humming through his veins. He just had to get through the last chorus, and everything would be okay. Normal. The same.

 _Tell him,_ his heart pleaded. He wanted to. Every urge, every impulse told him to. If he could ride the wave of that feeling, maybe he could.

Jennifer erupted into a cacophony of applause as the song ended. Luke looked up, startled, the elation ebbing away; he’d completely forgotten she was there. Oh, that was right. He couldn’t tell Reggie, of course not. He had a girlfriend. Right. He’d lost himself for a second, ran away with his traitorous thoughts, imagining there was a reality where he could tell Reggie, and he could feel the same. It wasn’t possible, no matter how much he wanted it.

Luke bowed exaggeratedly, putting on a show for her, pasting his overconfident smirk onto his face. She mimicked swooning in response before jumping to her feet and rushing towards him. She looped her hands around the back of his neck, laughing delightedly and leaning into him. He placed an arm around her waist for show. It felt wrong.

“Oh, hey Jennifer, there’s this thing I wanna show you to see if your friends would be impressed!” Bobby piped up.

“I’ll be back in a second, babe.” Jennifer smiled, squeezing Luke’s arm as she left. Luke didn’t even watch her go. His attention immediately drifted back towards Reggie. The bassist’s face was lit up with enthusiasm, praising Alex for his ‘killer’ drum playing, as he pulled his plaid shirt off his shoulders. The weather outside was unbearable and performing in the studio got suffocatingly hot and sweaty fast. He was wearing a simple black tank top underneath, his arms and collarbones on display. He rubbed one of his arms self-consciously as he tossed his plaid shirt to the side.

Luke focused on the movement, his brain short-circuiting and mouth dropping slightly open. He knew Reggie was insecure about his arms, always hiding them beneath plaid shirts and leather jackets, but Luke loved them. He loved his subtle muscles, loved the curves of his arms, loved the knowledge that Reggie could easily pick him up and carry him. He had multiple times in the past, usually as a part of one of their dumb games or wrestling, or to demonstrate that he actually could. Luke’s imagination was running away from that, picturing being lifted to be kissed, to smother him in kisses.

Alex cleared his throat, smirking as he caught Luke’s attention. The latter flushed, embarrassed at being caught out. Reggie straightened, tilting his head at Alex and turning to face Luke with a look of curiosity. A smile broke out across his features as he spotted him.

“Luke! That song came together perfectly! Your vocals were killer.” He said excitedly, patting Luke’s arm. Luke fixated on the contact, wanting to lean into it, wanting more. Always wanting more.

“Luke, your girlfriend is so cool!!” Bobby exclaimed. His girlfriend, _right_. She was a thing. He had to stop; stop pining, stop deflecting, stop with his terrible life choices and poor coping mechanisms. But facing his emotions, actually dealing with them, that wasn’t an option. “She said she could bring some of her friends to rehearsal, that there’s this girl she knows I might be interested in, oh, and there’s this party she invited us to. It’s held by that bouncer of that one club, you know the one, and they have loads of bands and promoters that will be there. That’d be such a cool opportunity, she’s so cool!”

“Yeah.” Luke agreed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He walked towards her, placing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him. “She really is, why do you think I like her?” She smiled up at him, cheeks dimpling and eyes crinkling. She really was cute. And sweet, and actually cool. She just wasn’t Reggie.

“Want to see us perform another song?” He asked, changing the subject the only way he knew how.

She nodded her head delightedly, squealing again. He smirked at her, turning to retrieve his guitar and spotting Reggie watching them, his expression indecipherable. Luke felt cold. He could always interpret Reggie’s expressions, always read between the lines and pick up on the subtleties, read him like a book. Not knowing what that look meant, it terrified him. It solidified the feeing of wrongness twisting around his bones. It was _all_ wrong.

“How about Long Weekend next?” He said, pushing away the looming dread. If he focused, he could get through practice, pretend it had never happened and ensure they all never crossed paths again. He could go back to deflecting his emotions without consequences, and pretend dating her would actually work out. He could avoid the unimpressed looks Alex kept shooting him and Reggie’s expression he couldn’t decipher. He could go back to pretending everything was okay.

The four of them took their places, readying their instruments and jumping headfirst into the song. Luke trained his eyes on his girlfriend, watching her watch him, convincing himself this was what was best. He pulled his fingers through his hair as he sang the opening lines – one of his usual ways of showing off and impressing their audience. Jennifer blew him a kiss and he winked in response, ignoring the way his chest tightened, ignoring the lump building in his throat.

Luke poured his heart into the song, letting the music switch off his brain and drown out all the negative thoughts. It would be okay. And if it wasn’t, well, he still had music. The bass kicked in and his pulse stuttered.

He couldn’t help it, his eyes drifted back towards Reggie, drawn to him like a magnet. Luke would never get tired of watching him perform, of seeing him so alive with energy and excitement. Reggie thrived when he performed, he shone, he stole the spotlight. He bounced on his feet enthusiastically, hopping backwards and forwards, vibrantly playing his bass, his eyes closed and face lit up with exhilaration. He was constantly moving, bursting with passion and life. It sparked the fire in Luke’s heart, roaring high and bright and consuming all in its path.

Reggie rushed towards Alex’s drums, climbing onto the podium in a fluid motion, and jumping as the beat for the chorus hit. Luke’s heart beat in time with it, thundering in his ears, emphasising the bass. The joy he felt – he couldn’t compare it. It was an honour to be trusted with this side of Reggie, to see him in his element, to watch him burning like a star, bright and special and lighting up the darkest nights.

When Reggie glanced his way, it was only natural, only _right,_ for Luke to jerk his head, gesturing for him to come to him. Reggie came immediately, his eyes sparkling, dousing Luke in gasoline. He would burn for hours.

His breath hitched as Reggie leaned into his space, singing into his microphone. Luke’s heart reached out towards him, desperate to close the distance. His senses were flooding with Reggie, erasing everything else. Nothing else was important. Only Reggie. Reggie, and the mere inches separating their mouths. Reggie, and the red tint spreading across his skin. Reggie, and the slight upturn of his lips. Reggie, and the sound of his voice so close to Luke’s ears. Reggie, Reggie, Reggie.

Luke was hypnotised by him, lost in the depths of his eyes, his smile. It was his sole focus, his sole purpose. He was addicted to it; addicted to the feeling of Reggie’s breath tickling his skin, addicted to the way his heart rate sped up whenever he was close, addicted to the adrenaline that rushed through his veins. There were chords intertwining them together, pushing Luke closer, anywhere Reggie went, he would follow.

That close, he could smell everything distinctly Reggie; the cheap cologne he wore, sweat and the chocolate he’d eaten beforehand. Luke briefly wondered, if he kissed Reggie, would he be able to taste it? He was so close, and yet, not close enough.

Luke was thankful they’d played that song countless times; he was functioning on autopilot, too wrapped up in Reggie to remember the lyrics or notes. He had his rapt attention. Reggie smiled as he sang and Luke’s gaze dropped to his mouth, watching his lips shape the words. Luke was overcome with want; want to know how the words would taste, to experience his song in a whole new way, melodies mingling as lips met lips. His impulses took over. He stepped forward, leaning into Reggie’s personal space. Reggie stepped backwards, face morphing with panic as he lost his balance. He flailed, trying to regain himself, grabbing onto Luke’s shoulders. Luke tried to steady him, catching his elbows, but Reggie was already too far gone.

The bassist slipped backwards, dragging Luke down with him, the two falling in a blur. Something hit Luke in the head, it could have been his instrument, it could have been Reggie, he wasn’t sure. One minute, he’d been stood upright, the next he was lying on top of his friend, his guitar slung to the side. His chest was flush against Reggie’s, their faces close, Reggie’s an alarming shade of pink. It was endearing, and captivating. Luke stared, shocked, brain struggling to restart. He was still a breath away from Reggie, a small movement and he’d be able to capture his lips and kiss him senseless.

Common sense caught up and Luke scrambled backwards, putting as much distance between them as he could.

“Uh, sorry, Luke! I slipped on my cable and panicked, I didn’t mean to drag you down with me.” Reggie stuttered, his eyes looking anywhere but Luke. He lifted his hand to his face, touching his eyebrow tentatively. He hissed in pain. “Is my eyebrow bleeding?”

Luke moved closer again, scanning his face. There was a small cut through his eyebrow, beading with blood. He nodded, reaching out to touch it. He drew his fingers back before he did, retrieving the First Aid Kit. It was habit. He knelt back down beside Reggie, taking the anti-septic wipes and dabbing it clean. Reggie winced, screwing his face up. Luke placed his hand gently on his cheek, leaned down and kissed his temple. “All better.”

Reggie inhaled sharply, peering up at Luke, his eyes wide and expression soft. “Thank you.”

Luke nodded, climbing to his feet to return the First Aid Kit. As he passed, his gaze caught onto Jennifer. He cursed internally; again, he’d forgotten she was there. He turned slowly, assessing the situation. A storm had passed over her; her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her eyebrows low and furrowed, her mouth pursed in disgust. Her eyes were sparking with lightning, ready to strike someone down. He’d messed up.

Pasting a smile across his features, feigning ignorance and happiness, he announced, “I’m just gonna take a minute. It’s so warm, I feel a bit queasy so I’m gonna get some fresh air. Jennifer, will you come with me?”

She nodded, striking him with icy daggers. Luke led her out of the garage, closing the door behind them. He hoped it wouldn’t lead to shouting, but if it did, the last thing he wanted was to trigger Reggie; his parents argued and shouted enough to last a lifetime, he didn’t need it anywhere else.

“What the fuck was that?” Jennifer snapped.

“What was what?”

“That entire thing.” She emphasised the words, saying it like she thought he was stupid. He was, but for entirely different reasons. “For starters? Sharing a microphone, you straight up looked like you were going to kiss him. Not to mention that you actually did when he injured himself. You’ve not even kissed me yet, and you’re kissing some other dude. The fuck, Luke?”

Panic flooded Luke; he’d made his feelings so obvious, painted a pretty picture with them and hung it on display, showing it off for all to see.

“Sharing the mic is just a regular band thing we do.” He said, fighting to keep his voice casual, desperate to do some damage control. “And that’s a familial thing we do when someone injures themselves.” He failed to mention that he only did both things with Reggie.

“The whole band does it?” She questioned. He opened his mouth, searching for the right answer, but she’d already read it on his face.

“If this conversation is going to lead to argument, can it please wait until after band practice. I can’t trigger-“ He swallowed his words. “I don’t want this to taint their opinions of you.”

She nodded once. Curt. Unimpressed. “Fine.”

//

Reggie stared at his ceiling, listening to the sounds of his parents shouting. He wished it was over, wished they wouldn’t prolong every argument and turn it into a game of chess, analysing every move until there was only one victor. It was even worse when he was the catalyst, the cause of the argument. It was his responsibility, his fault; he was to blame.

It had started when his report card had been sent home. His grades had dropped drastically the past semester. He hadn’t intended for them to drop, but he was finding it harder and harder to focus in school. He wished he could tell them it wasn’t his fault. He put all his effort into his lessons, desperately trying to listen to what was said and absorb it all, only he didn’t. He couldn’t. If he was sat still, his brain switched off. He needed something more stimulating, something to keep him engaged whilst he listened. His teachers wouldn’t let him doodle, they wouldn’t let him fiddle with his hands or his leather bracelets. They claimed it was distracting him and stopping him from learning. He couldn’t tell them that they’d got it the wrong way around.

Reggie sighed. He would have to ask Alex for more help, maybe get him to tutor him in all his subjects. Not only was Alex a good student – good at studying, good at focusing, good at learning – he wasn’t as close-minded as their teachers. He always found new ways to help Reggie learn and get the information to stick in his head. Sometimes he got exasperated with him and teased him for missing obvious points, but it was always good-naturedly, and he never got actively frustrated with him. Reggie appreciated it. He needed patience. He needed understanding. His teachers and parent did not give him that.

He was tired of it. He just wanted some relief, some space, a place to grow. He was tired of the sunlight being blocked out, tired of being ignored, tired of being responsible. He wanted to be somewhere where it mattered if he was dead or alive, somewhere where _he_ mattered.

Reggie hauled himself out of bed, sticking his earphones in his ears and pressing play on his cassette player, sticking it in his jeans pocket. He drowned out the sounds of their voices, losing himself to heavy bass and raspy vocals. He busied himself packing his bag, checking he had his song journal, his cassette tapes, the book he’d borrowed from the library and enough clothes for a few days. He needed a break. He’d return, just not yet. Not until the fight had blown over, not until he wasn’t the one responsible. He’d had enough of being blamed.

Climbing out the window, Reggie scaled down the trellis and headed towards the studio. The sun was setting over the horizon, washing the sky in purple and pink. It was beautiful. Reggie wished he was seeing it under better circumstances so he could truly appreciate and admire it. His heart just wasn’t in it.

He breathed out when he saw the studio, not even realising he’d been holding his breath. The knot in his stomach loosened its hold. Reggie moved towards the studio door, hand hovering over the handle and freezing as he heard voices coming from inside. Loud voices. Shouting. The nausea returned.

“You’re clearly in love with him.” It sounded like Luke’s girlfriend.

“That’s besides the point.”

“That’s exactly the point, Luke.”

Reggie turned on his heels, fleeing the scene. He couldn’t deal with another argument. And that was clearly their business. But what did she expect, really? It had been three weeks since Luke had broken up with Alex; of course he was still going to be in love with him. It had torn him apart when they’d split, Reggie had been there to see it, to comfort him through his tears. Of course it wasn’t going to be _that_ easy to get over.

He headed back towards the beach, finding his usual comfort spot on the coast wall. He’d stopped going there as frequently after he’d gotten his own key to the garage (the garage was warmer and more private), but it still provided the same sense of relief. A place to breathe, a place to just be. He didn’t have to be anyone else sat there. He could just be Reggie. No expectations, no blame, no standards to uphold. Just Reggie.

Staring out into the sea, he watched the colours of the sky bleed to black as the sun dipped below the sea line. Thoughts of their rehearsal that afternoon came to his mind as they had been all evening. He kept reliving the same moments, overanalysing them in his head, embarrassed, confused and _doomed_. Before he’d injured himself, he could have sworn Luke was going to kiss him. That was a stupid thought. Impossible. It would never happen, especially not when his girlfriend had been _right there._ He’d been so caught up in the thought that he’d tripped over his own cable like a _moron._ Not only had he humiliated himself in front of everyone, he’d pulled Luke down with him. Way to make an impression, Reginald, good job. He couldn’t stop thinking about the mere inches between them, about how crimson he turned every time Luke was in close proximity, about how far gone for Luke he really was. He _was_ doomed.

Reggie was so absorbed in his thoughts, too busy cringing at himself, that he jumped when he heard nearby footsteps. Startling, he turned to face the source of the noise, face warping with confusion and surprise when he spotted Luke. Luke frowned at him, clearly just as confused, but sat beside him regardless.

“What’re you doing here, Reg?”

“Dude, it’s my comfort spot, I hope you’d be able to figure that out.” He bumped his shoulder against Luke’s. Luke’s expression didn’t change. Reggie sighed. “Home is getting bad again. It’s my fault. My grades, you know? I was hoping to stay at the studio for a week or two until it blows over. I went there first, but I could hear arguing.”

Luke’s face twisted with panic, his eyes widening.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, I didn’t hear anything.” Reggie stuttered, tripping over his words in his rush to clarify. “I just heard shouting and left. I couldn’t deal with that even if I’d wanted to intrude, which I didn’t, I would never, that’s your business and I have no right to get involved, and you know that shouting triggers my panic attacks, so I just can’t deal with that-“

“Reg, it’s okay.” Luke took his hand, squeezing it. He pressed his body weight against him, leaning into his side. Reggie felt calm wash over him, drawing strength and reassurance from the contact. They stayed there for a moment, both silent, looking out at the ocean, watching the waves crash into one another.

Luke drew back first, turning to Reggie and smiling at him, all soft edges and warmth. He reached out, brushing the loose tufts of hair from his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead. It tugged at Reggie’s heart, wrapping around him like a blanket of protection, of safety, of comfort. He would never stop seeing magic in Luke’s kisses. Even if they were only platonic.

“It will be better.” Luke said gently. He stood up, offering Reggie his hand. “Come on, it’s getting late.”

//

Peaceful afternoons were Luke’s favourite. He loved their rehearsals — they inspired him, set his soul on fire — but nothing beat the afternoons where the four of them just hung out together. They’d tired themselves out rehearsing that morning, rocking out until they couldn’t play another note, and had crashed on the couch to watch back to back Sailor Moon reruns on Cartoon Network. Luke had managed to buy a crappy second-hand TV for the studio. It wasn’t much, but it worked.

Bobby was curled up in one corner, tucked into himself, his head resting on the sofa arm, asleep. Luke was in the other corner, one leg pulled up, his chin on his knee. Alex and Reggie were between them, Alex on Luke’s side, Reggie asleep on Alex’s shoulder, arm loosely curled around his bicep. They were watching the episode where Usagi followed Mamoru into Zoisite’s layer, the episode where they both revealed their identities to the other. It was one of Luke’s favourites. It was a stressful episode, a sad one, but he liked the hopeful undertone.

An ad break interrupted the episode, and Luke took the opportunity to glance sideways, looking at Reggie asleep on Alex’s shoulder. Alex smirked knowingly. He turned to Reggie, gently prodding him until he stirred awake.

“Wuhs ‘appening?” Reggie murmured sleepily.

“Hey, Reg, I need you to move off me a sec, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” Reggie lifted himself upwards, eyes still glued shut, tucking his arms into himself. Alex climbed to his feet, moving to stand in front of Luke.

“Budge up.” Alex instructed.

“What?” Luke said intelligently.

“Move up. I want to sit in the corner.”

“But- I can’t- you were just-“ Luke stuttered, panic taking over. How would he be able to stand sitting next to Reggie, especially when he was so adorably sleepy? His impulses weren’t great; he’d do something stupid and not at all platonic.

Alex rolled his eyes. “That corner is my seat, so budge up.”

Resigning himself, Luke shuffled along, careful not to disturb Reggie. The movement woke him regardless, just enough for him to open his eyes a fraction.

“Oh, Luke.” Reggie mumbled, stretching out across him. Reggie looped his arms around him and nestled his head into Luke’s chest, hair tickling his jaw. Luke’s heartbeat sped up, frantically trying to break free from his chest. He knew how clingy Reggie got when he was tired, but he hadn’t been prepared to be subjected to it.

“G’night.” Reggie said softly, prompting falling asleep. Luke huffed a laugh, silently reminding him it was still day time. Reggie snored in response. Smiling and unable to stop himself, he pressed a kiss to the crown of Reggie’s head. Alex settled himself in the corner, leaning against Luke and whispering, “You’re welcome.”

“Shut up.” Luke muttered, still smiling. More than anything, he was just glad that things were back to normal between them. Their friendship had survived the strain; things were no longer awkward. They were back to their usual lack of boundaries, the casual intimacy the four of them shared that gave Luke his life force. He could breathe easier again. He felt at peace. Content. Happy.

The episode resumed.

//

Reggie taped the poster to a lamp-post, admiring his handiwork. The four of them were putting up flyers to promote their next gig in two weeks – a gig at a small, local bar wher _e_ they served alcohol and food – and hoping it would persuade more people to come. They’d been at it for a few hours, posting them through letterboxes, hanging them on lamp-posts and in shop windows, anywhere they could get away with it. Luke and Bobby led the group, Alex and Reggie walking further behind, talking about dogs.

Glancing behind them, Bobby pulled Luke further ahead before turning to him.

“Look, Luke, I’m going to be straight with you.” Reggie heard Bobby say. He didn’t mean to listen in, but Bobby had poor volume control and often spoke louder than he’d intended. Either way, Reggie was curious about what was so important that he couldn’t say it in front of him or Alex. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, or rude, but don’t you think it’s a bit weird you’re always kissing Reggie? We’re 17, we’re too old to do something like that as a show of affection or comfort, it’s clearly why your relationships never last.”

Reggie didn’t hear the rest. He’d stopped walking, no longer in ear shot, without making the conscious decision to. He felt cold seeping in through his skin, icing his veins. He was responsible for ending Luke’s relationships? He was holding him back that much?

“Reggie.” Alex said softly, placing his hand on his shoulder, his face twisted with sympathy. He’d clearly overheard Bobby’s words too.

“Is it really that weird?” Reggie asked, his voice small.

“It’s not weird exactly, it’s just not the given thing to do. But it’s sweet, you shouldn’t let Bobby make you feel weird about it. It’s a special thing between you two, that doesn’t make it wrong.”

“But Bobby’s right, isn’t he? It does affect Luke’s relationships.”

Alex’s face flickered with pain, almost missable, there for a second before he composed his features. Reggie had seen it, the realisation dawning on him, flooding him with guilt. He’d affected their relationship too. He’d tried his hardest, ignored every single one of his own feelings, routed for them every step of the way, and he was still responsible for hurting them.

“Oh Alex, no, I’m so sorry.” Reggie whispered.

“It’s not your fault, Reg.” Alex said firmly. “It’s more complex than that, but that’s for Luke to say.”

The guilt was gnawing at Reggie, eating him from the inside. He was holding Luke back, stopping him from having functional relationships, somehow getting between them. He couldn’t do that. It was selfish. He didn’t think of Luke platonically, but confessing to him himself?? That was a fever dream. Him and Luke would never happen, it was impossible, so it was wrong to keep Luke to himself. Luke deserved more than that. He should have a chance to be happy with someone else.

Reggie bit his lip, gliding his fingers through his own hair nervously. “I should ask him to stop, right? It’s not fair. It’s selfish of me.”

“Reginald…”

“I don’t want to hold him back anymore.”

“Reg, you’re not.” Alex couldn’t convince him otherwise; he knew he was. “Reggie, please, just talk to Luke, tell him how you feel.”

“I can’t do that.” Reggie couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating. Death by asphyxiation, that’s what his tombstone would say. “I can’t, I can’t.”

It played like a mantra inside his head, repeatedly telling him he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough for Luke, and Luke could never feel the same. It was a pipe dream, a product of his imagination, but nothing more. Luke was a sun, the centre of his own galaxy, dazzling bright and drawing everyone into his gravitational orbit. Reggie was just Reggie.

Too absorbed by his own thoughts, he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, falling to the floor and scraping his hands on the rough surface. It was a minor injury, barely worthy of an acknowledgement of pain, but the shock and his spiralling thoughts overwhelmed him. He burst into tears.

“Hey, Reg, it’s okay.” Alex said, kneeling down beside him, holding his arms out to him. Reggie buried himself in his arms, crying into his shoulder. He knew Alex knew why he was really crying. In the back of his mind, he knew he should be embarrassed, but he was too caught up in his thoughts to be self-conscious.

“Alex, what happened?” Reggie flinched at the sound of Luke’s voice, dreading what was to come. He clung onto Alex tighter, refusing to let go, refusing to face reality. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing circles. “Hey, Reg, it’s okay.”

“Reggie.” Alex said softly, loosening his hold. Reggie shook his head. “Reg, I need you to let go.”

Reggie let go instantaneously. Alex moved to the side, Luke taking his place. Reggie’s tears fell faster, his entire body shaking as Luke wrapped him in his arms. He suppressed the feeling of safety washing over him, pushed away the comfort. He couldn’t accept it. He didn’t deserve it. He was taking advantage of Luke and he needed to stop. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair.

“It’s okay, Reggie, it’s okay.” Luke reassured him, stroking his fingers across his shoulder blades. Reggie clenched his eyes shut. One last moment before he ruined everything. “Can I look at your hands?”

Drawing back, Luke circled his fingers around Reggie’s wrists, pulling them closer to him. Reggie whimpered, opening his eyes, cursing himself, cursing his clumsiness, hating that he’d have to do this now. Luke studied his palms, checking his injuries, concern etched across his face. He leaned down towards Reggie’s hands and Reggie snatched them away, stuffing them in his pockets, out of reach and out of sight.

“Can you please stop doing that?” Reggie asked, trembling. Luke flinched like he’d been slapped, expression twisting like a kicked puppy. He blinked at Reggie, once, then jumped to his feet, retreating. He was gone in seconds.

“What just happened?” Bobby said slowly, confused.

“Oh, Reggie.” Alex said softly, crouching beside him again. Reggie pulled his knees up to his own chest, burying his face into them, heart shattering on the floor. His hands stung, his lungs burned, the flames inside of him were all extinguished; he’d never be warm again. He was empty. All he felt was regret. But it was for the best. Luke could move on, he could find a partner, he could be happy. Reggie would no longer hold him back.

“It’s for the best.” Reggie sobbed. He wished he believed it.

//

Luke crossed out the lyrics angrily, tearing a hole through the page of his song book. He threw it across his room in frustration, placing his head in his hands. They were all wrong. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate. He just kept reliving that afternoon again and again, rehearing the sound of Reggie’s broken voice as he asked him to stop, seeing the horrified look on his face. Luke had fucked it up. Reggie had obviously figured out how he felt and wasn’t comfortable with it. Maybe if he hadn’t been so damn obvious, it would have been easier to miss, to brush off.

If Luke was feeling more resentful, he would have blamed Bobby. Of course Bobby had chosen that day to speak to him about it, when the other two weren’t far behind. Why couldn’t he have waited until they were alone?? Maybe Reggie had overheard the conversation. That definitely would have dug his grave. He had confessed to Bobby that he was in love with Reggie. Bobby’s response tormented him, on repeat in his mind.

_“No shit, dude, you’re so obvious about it, especially with the whole kissing thing. That’s why it ruins your relationship attempts, you give yourself away. You either need to tell him, or cut it out. Stop dancing around it.”_

Luke wished he had told him, wished he had had the chance to explain himself. He should have taken Alex’s advice, should have listened to his nagging, and actually done it. But he’d been a coward, and now he was paying the price.

Turning onto his back, Luke stared at his ceiling, cursing himself, cursing his heart and his dumb feelings. He didn’t know what he going to do the next band practice. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand being around Reggie without his hurt spilling everywhere. His heart was aching, burning, breaking. He didn’t sleep. 

//

It had been a week since Reggie had asked Luke to stop kissing him. It had been the worst week of his life. Luke was distancing himself from him; he wouldn’t speak to him outside of group conversation, he didn’t look his way during band practice, he left as soon as it was over. Reggie didn’t know what he’d done wrong. He’d definitely done something to hurt Luke, he knew that much; he was the only one getting the silent treatment. Between songs, Luke would talk to Bobby, he’d sit pressed up against Alex, he’d drape his arm over Bobby’s shoulder and enthusiastically praise his playing. He wouldn’t even look at Reggie.

It was making him anxious. He just wanted to know what he’d done. He knew he was oblivious, he knew he acted without thinking sometimes and did the wrong thing, but he couldn’t work out what had happened. He’d started chewing his lips as a result, subconsciously tearing off the thin skin until it bled. It was an old habit, one he’d never been able to break, especially with the weather getting colder as winter set in. He’d made them bleed several times over the past few days. It was easy to ignore. A consequence for whatever he’d done. He could live with it. What he couldn’t live with was Luke ignoring him. He just wanted to know what he’d done so he could fix it.

They were in the garage, going over the songs for their upcoming setlist, polishing their performances to perfection. Luke hadn’t looked at him once. Not even when he’d first came in, almost half an hour late, after sneaking out the house and running the rest of the way. It made him feel off-balance, like the world was spinning on a different axis and he’d lost his sense of gravity. He was floating, senseless, unable to his footing, unable to grab a handhold. It was wrong.

“Hey Reg, you okay??” Alex asked, glancing his way. “You’ve barely moved from that spot.”

“Yeah.” He lied. Luke still didn’t look at him. He ached. Practice wasn’t the same without interacting with Luke; he couldn’t channel the same amount of energy, couldn’t get as hyped up. He was so used to singing together, to bouncing energies off each other, to breaking down those walls together. He couldn’t do it alone.

“Let’s try that song again.” Luke announced, his eyes trained on the garage door. Reggie nodded, the anxiety building inside of him. He was jittery with adrenaline, with the wrong feeling intent on drowning him. He was so on edge, it was impossible to remain still and yet, he was paralysed. His teeth found his lips again, chewing at the loose skin.

Reggie stared blankly ahead as he played, his heart not in it. He couldn’t focus on the notes, couldn’t drown out his thoughts. He tasted the tell-tale metallic of blood; he’d made his lips bleed again. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Yo, Reggie, your mouth is bleeding.” Bobby said, halting his guitar playing to look at him with worry. Reggie opened his mouth to shrug it off, the words dying in his throat as Luke turned to face him. His heart pounded in his ears as their eyes met, Luke’s filled with concern and asking silent questions.

“Maybe you should get Luke to kiss it better for you.” Alex said, the smirk evident in his voice. Luke recoiled, immediately turning away and busying himself with his guitar. A bubble built inside Reggie’s chest, the pressure building, words desperate to be spoken.

“Oh, I can’t watch this.” Bobby declared, marching out of the garage.

“I’ll go deal with him, you kids have fun.” Alex said cheerfully, following him out. Reggie barely noticed them leave, his attention fully focused on Luke, staring at him unabashedly. Luke sighed, glancing back up at Reggie, opening his mouth to speak.

The bubble popped, bursting out of him. “Have I done something wrong?” Reggie babbled, stepping closer to Luke, speaking a hundred miles a minute. “What did I do, Luke, because you haven’t been speaking to me, and we’ve barely interacted all week, and I can’t perform the same when we’re not bouncing off each other, and I know I’m not the brightest, but I have no clue what I did, so can you please tell me so I can fix it, because I can’t stand the thought of hurting you, of you being mad at me, of us not being on good terms, or talking. I just don’t understand-“

Reggie closed his mouth as Luke moved into his space, hands firmly pressed on his shoulders. “Reggie, please stop talking.” Luke inhaled, exhaled. “You’ve not done anything wrong.”

“Then why?” Reggie started. Luke shook his head, gesturing to the sofa for Reggie to sit down. He did.

“I’ve just had some things I’ve had to work through. It’s not-“ Luke swallowed. “It’s not personal.”

First Aid kit in hand, he settled himself beside Reggie, turning to face him. Reggie wanted to believe him, but it felt personal. Luke usually came to him when he was struggling; they usually worked through it together. He didn’t always know what to do like Alex, but he always listened. Ultimately, it was Luke’s choice whether he wanted to confide in him, and he respected that, he just hoped he hadn’t done anything to lose Luke’s trust.

Luke dripped some of the antiseptic solution onto a cotton bud, his other hand cradling Reggie’s jaw. Reggie stared at him, startled, fixating on the contact, warmth bleeding into his skin. The heat bled across his cheeks and filled his chest. The fire inside of him had been reignited, roaring to life. Carefully, Luke dabbed the blood from his mouth, Reggie inhaling sharply as his finger brushed his bottom lip.

“There.” Luke said, lowering the cotton. His eyes skirted Reggie’s face. He looked wistful and worried. Reggie longed to reach out to him, to press his lips against his and kiss him until he could only laugh and smile. Sadness didn’t suit Luke Patterson, it didn’t sit right. He looked his best when he was full of life, with a guitar swung around his neck or his laughter floating through the air.

“Does it hurt?” Luke whispered, a silent question unspoken behind his words. His thumb stroked Reggie’s cheek and he suppressed a shiver, so completely and utterly gone for the boy in front of him.

“Please.”

Luke leaned forward and hesitantly, gently kissed him. Reggie couldn’t stop the hiss of pain. He cursed himself internally, mad at his own reflexes. Luke moved to retreat, tensing up, his eyebrows furrowing. Reggie didn’t give him the chance. Surrendering to every one of his emotions, he caught Luke, fingers twisting in the neck of his shirt and pulled him towards him. He pressed his lips against Luke’s, ignoring the stinging pain. He didn’t care; it was worth it.

Luke hummed in surprise, the sound causing flowers to bloom in Reggie’s chest, growing from his heart. Curling his hands around Reggie’s neck, Luke melted into him, kissing him back. Reggie’s heart rate sped up, thundering in his ears. He was pretty sure Luke could hear it too, it was that loud, but he didn’t care. Luke was kissing him back. It was all he had ever wanted. It was a lifeline, saving him from drowning, dragging him back to the safety of shore. There was a whole garden amongst his ribcage.

 _“But this is wrong,_ ” his mind whisperered. “ _You’re taking advantage of him.”_

Reggie pulled back, jumping to his feet and spiralling. “I am so sorry.” He stuttered, voice shaking. “I know you’re just doing this to help me, because you’re literally the nicest guy alive and you hate that I miss out on basic affection, and I’ve always appreciated it so much, and it was fine until my stupid feelings got in the way, and I went and fell in love with you, and now, now I’m just taking advantage of you, because you’re trying to do this nice platonic thing, but it’s not platonic to me, and that’s not right, I’m just taking advantage of your support and kindness and being so incredibly selfish, and I can’t do that, I shouldn’t do that, I can’t.”

Reggie spoke in a rush of words, blurring them together, tripping over them. Luke gaped at him, eyes wide and shiny, lips slightly parted.

“What did you say?” Luke asked hopefully.

“Uh, I said a lot, which thing?”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry if that’s weird, I didn’t-“ Luke cut him off, taking his face in his hands, brushing his thumbs across his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie, I am so ridiculously and stupidly in love with you.” Luke beamed. He was looking at Reggie like he’d hung the stars in the sky, like he was the present you’d get on christmas day that you’d waited all year for. Reggie’s heart soared, his face burning.

“Can I kiss you?” Luke breathed. Reggie answered by kissing him again, closing his eyes and letting all his senses flood with Luke. Luke’s smell, Luke’s taste, the feeling of his hands tangling in his hair, his chapped lips pressing against his, his shirt threaded through his fingers. He wanted to commit it to memory, write songs about this feeling. About flying, about burning, about finally being able to breathe.

Luke smiled against Reggie’s lips, exhaling a small laugh. He drew back slightly, muttering a quiet, “I can’t believe I was so scared to tell you only for you to be in love with me too.”

“It’s easy to love you. You’re Luke Patterson, you’re talented, beautiful and perfect. I’m just me.”

“Reggie Peters, don’t you dare. You are perfect.” He kissed Reggie’s cheek. “In all that you are.” His other cheek. “In every single way.” His nose. Reggie scrunched it up on reflex. Luke did it again. “It kills me when you do that.” He laughed breathily, kissing his forehead. “Falling in love with you.” His temples. “Was the most natural thing.” His lips. “I could ever do.” His chin. “I’ve always been a little bit in love with you.”

Reggie smiled, lost for words, tears building in his throat. He was so full of life, full of hope, full of love. He’d spend most of his childhood not believing he deserved that.

Luke caressed his face. “And, if it’s what you want, I want to take you on dates. I want you to be my boyfriend, I want to sing love songs about you to the world.” He inhaled, biting his lip. “Crooked Teeth, it’s about you.”

“I- I’m-“

Luke laughed softly, smiling fondly at him. “I started writing that when we were 15, just so you know.”

“Luke!” Reggie whined, his heart unable to take it. He was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed in the best possible way.

“I mean it, Reg. I want to do everything with you. What do you say?” He smirked, his best Luke ‘heartthrob’ Patterson smirk, the one that would have all the girls swooning.

“Yes, you dork.” Reggie pressed a kiss to his lips, sighing happily. “I want to.”

“Good. Oh, but let’s not tell the boys. Alex and Bobby have made my life hell trying to get me to tell you. I wanna make them suffer some more.” Luke’s eyes lit up with mischief.

“Oh, you’re on.” Reggie grinned. “We should probably find them though.”

“We will.” Luke stole one more kiss before running towards the door, leaving a flustered Reggie standing staring after him. “Come on, Reginald.”

After searching for ten minutes, they eventually found Alex and Bobby at a nearby café eating sandwiches. Alex justified that he didn’t know how long they’d need so they’d gotten food to stay out of their way. Luke told them that they’d sorted it out, but didn’t clarify further. The four of them ate and returned to their studio, falling back into rehearsing. The songs went a lot smoother, full of more energy and life. If Reggie and Luke were more tactile than usual, if they didn’t stop staring at each other, even when their harmonies were done and the songs were over, well, no-one commented on it.

//

Luke still couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He was never going to get over it. He was dating Reggie, actually dating him. Not a dream, not a fantasy, his real, actual life. It was better than he’d imagined. Being able to hold him, to serenade him with cheesy song lyrics, to taste his laughter, to kiss away his tears; it was more than Luke could have ever asked for. He lived for it, thrived from it, fell a little bit more in love with every day. He didn’t even know it was possible.

They still hadn’t told the others. Luke was waiting for the perfect opportunity, a time when he could exasperate them both and drop the bomb. Of course, rehearsal provided that opportunity.

“Ow.” Reggie winced as he accidentally smacked himself in the teeth with his microphone. Luke was in front of him in seconds, no shame, no hesitation, as he kissed him full on the mouth. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, see the blush spreading across Reggie’s. It tugged at his heart, knowing he could fluster him like that.

“Dude!” Bobby said, his voice full of exasperation. Perfect. “Wouldn’t you rather just be kissing girls at gigs?” Luke knew Bobby was just looking out for him, that he had no intention of being rude even when his words implied otherwise.

“Nah.” Luke grinned, looping his arm around Reggie’s neck and pulling him closer. “I’d much rather kiss my boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh thank god you both finally worked it out!” Alex smirked, darting around his drum-kit to throw his arms around them both. “I was so close to telling you both myself. It’s painful watching two oblivious morons pine after one another whilst claiming the other could never love them.”

Bobby rolled his eyes, smiling. “You really had to make us suffer. I’m happy for you both.”

“You love us really.”

“Luckily for you two.” Alex replied. “You really put it to the test.”

“Enough gossip, time for rehearsing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys watch sailor moon and you can pry this headcanon from my cold, dead hands,,, also Usagi is Luke’s favourite because she reminds him of Reggie  
> I wrote the subbed names b/c I can’t, for the life of me, watch the dubbed and I don’t remember what they are, but I’d like to imagine that they watched the dubbed, and obviously, they changed Zoisite into a girl for that to erase the gay, so when they’re in 2020 and wanna watch it, Julie tells them about the canon gays of Zoisite and Kunzite, and Michiru and Haruka and they all thrive off it, thanks for coming to my ted talk. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought <3
> 
> I’m currently working on other fics for this fandom, primarily Willex and Ruke/PeterPatter so keep an eye out for those I guess!!
> 
> Have a good day ~


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